I stand for freedom
by hpjkrowling4ever
Summary: Creature!fic; HP/DM/OC. The sign said, "For those who need help". Harry Potter, Saviour of the Wizarding World, who, according to Hermione, needed direction, walked into the whitewashed building and his life changed. A grievously injured fae, his hurting daughter and Harry Potter become bound in a story that they have no control over.
1. Chapter 1

_A/N:_ _I am sorry for my delay in writing anything. I've had a really busy year of applications to sort through, and it's almost all over (before exams!) but I'll be back on track sooner rather than not._

 _ **Warnings:**_ _as per usual with most of my work, M/M relationship, but this time it will be M/M/M. There will be_ _mentions_ _of rape, abuse, and everything that goes with that, but not graphically. Mpreg warning as well, if you don't like that. Creature!fic as well. I'm really piling it on, aren't I? Do give it a shot!_

 _Disclaimer:_ _None of my work belongs to me, it is solely the property of the one and only J.K. Rowling and any other company which has the copyright of Harry Potter, including Warner Bros. Nothing here belongs to me; all the characters are J.K. Rowling's originally, though any new character not part of the Harry Potter series belongs to me._

* * *

 **Title:** I stand for freedom

 **Author:** hpjkrowling4ever

Chapter One

Harry didn't know what had brought him to the whitewashed building he was now standing in front of. Hermione had mentioned that he needed direction in his life, and Ginny had taken one look at him and said that he needed to find his centre again. The whitewashed building was nondescript, and hidden down a side street in Diagon Alley. The sign at the door simply read: "For those who need help". Harry pushed open the door and walked into a large entrance hall filled with a hushed, almost reverential silence. Carefully, so as not to make any noise, he walked up to the desk in the middle of the hall.

There was a young girl, no older than seven, sitting on a stool, with no adult in sight. She had beautiful black hair and was smiling happily at him as he approached. He could see a puzzle in front of her on the desk.

"Hi," Harry whispered, trying to make himself sound as quiet as possible. The girl giggled and put a finger to her lips.

"Mummy will be coming soon," she said in an exaggerated whisper. As she was speaking, a woman rushed into the room holding a stack of papers. She put them down and gave Harry a wide smile.

"Hi there!" she said in a normal voice. "I'm Gabi, that's Addy," she said, pointing at herself and then her daughter. "Sorry I'm late, I was inside talking. How can I help?"

"Erm…" Harry looked around and took a deep breath. "I don't really know. I've been a bit lost since the War," Harry closed his eyes briefly, and opened them to see a look of understanding on the woman's face. The horrors of Lord Voldemort had yet to fade, four years on. "And I was in Diagon today and turned off the street. I saw your sign. I'd like to help, if that's possible. I don't even know what you do. I'm sorry," he said, shrugging in embarrassment.

"No, it's not a problem," Gabi answered, her voice a bit gentler and more sympathetic. "Follow me, I'll introduce you to the manager, he'll be able to help you out."

She walked around the desk, and after giving Addy a stern look, marched on in front of Harry. He followed her through a set of double doors into a long, clean corridor. It wasn't sterile and blank, though; the walls were painted a lovely lavender and stunning pieces of art hung on the walls. The ceiling was painted as well, with images of children running across it, so lifelike that Harry almost expected them to move. Starting a little when he realised that he had fallen behind Gabi, he hurried along. She turned down another, smaller corridor with wood panelling this time, and knocked at a nondescript door. It opened by itself, and she hustled Harry in.

There, sitting at a desk in a small, rather cluttered office, was a middle-aged man, dressed in a comfortable looking tweed jacket and corduroy trousers. Bookshelf upon bookshelf lined the walls, and the room gave off such a warm, welcoming vibe that Harry felt himself relax almost immediately. There was a fire near a lovely burgundy sofa.

"Hello, young man," the man Harry presumed was the manager said. "I'm Rhys." His voice had a distinct, gentle, Welsh lilt to it, which soothed Harry further. "Please sit down."

Harry noticed that Gabi had left without him noticing, and he sat down on the warm, plush sofa near to the roaring fireplace.

"Hi," he said quietly.

"I'm not going to pretend that I don't know who you are," Rhys said with a wry smile. "It's not every day the man who graces the newspaper weekly walks into your office."

"I wasn't expecting to be incognito. I'd have worn a Glamour if so. But I wanted to come here without any false pretences."

"What made you come?" Rhys asked, leaning back in his chair. Harry ran a hand through his hair.

"My friends say I need direction in my life, and I saw your sign…I thought that maybe I could help? I'm pretty good at helping people," Harry answered dryly. Rhys smiled and steeped his fingers together.

"We run a shelter for many different people. The vast majority of the people who come here have suffered some form of horrific abuse. More recently, especially after the war, we've had an influx of people suffering from PTSD. It's a refuge, a quiet, secluded place. Though we look like we're in the middle of bustling Diagon Alley, as soon as you walk through the doors, you're transported to a different place, a more peaceful place. We only appear to people who truly want to either help or need help."

"It sounds like a wonderful place," Harry said wistfully.

"The magic would not have let you come if you didn't need to be here in some form. I'd like to run a test over you. It will help me work out what you can get from here."

Harry looked dubiously at Rhys.

"There's a spell like that?"

"No, no, there isn't." Rhys smiled genially. "I'm an Empath. It means that I'm excellent at picking up on people's emotions, desires, and other, hidden aspects that most other people wouldn't be able to notice. It's why I run the place, and it's my magic that senses the need in people. If you allow me to read you, I will be able to help you."

Harry raised an eyebrow. He didn't trust people naturally, and especially not people he had only just met. However, looking at Rhys, Harry genuinely believed that the man would not do him any harm. He reminded him a bit of Remus' gentle, unassuming air, and the thought choked Harry for a moment. He took a breath and decided to take the risk.

"If I sense anything wrong…" Harry let his threat hang in the air. Rhys put up his hands and nodded carefully.

"I just need to hold your hands." When Harry nodded jerkily, Rhys walked over and placed his hands in Harry's. There was a moment when Harry felt nothing at all, and then there was a sudden wash of calm.

* * *

Rhys felt the barriers in Harry Potter's mind strain against him, and it took him more willpower than he was accustomed to using to get into his mind. The barriers were strong and inflexible. There was a brief tussle and then suddenly, Rhys felt himself become sucked in.

He looked around him in wonder. There was something incredible in Harry's mind. He could see a huge white scar that ran down his mind, and he could feel the taint of long-gone Dark Magic in it, but otherwise, his mind was one of the most peaceful places Rhys had ever been into.

Natural, Healing magic throbbed through Harry's mind, and Rhys felt awash with love and peace. He had never felt so much love in one place – and natural Healing magic was so hard to come by, magic that found it innately difficult to injure. No wonder Harry had only been able to cast an _Expelliarmus_ on Lord Voldemort. And no wonder Voldemort had lost. He knew immediately that Harry would be perfect for some of the severely traumatised magical creatures they had who took refuge here.

He walked gently to one of the corners of Harry's mind, where a small box lay on the ground. As he approached, the magic thrummed around him, and he knew that this was a special part of Harry's mind – and one he could guess Harry wasn't aware of, because of the lack of protection. He could see other beautifully carved boxes placed around Harry's mind, but the wards around them meant that he would never get close, not without Harry's absolute trust, and he knew he was pushing it merely by being in his mind.

The box opened to him as soon as he came near it, and a small wisp of magic came out of it and hovered in the air. It was gold and shone. He could feel the magic in Harry's mind hush as soon as the gold magic came out. Rhys didn't dare touch it, and instead bowed quietly and retreated from Harry's mind.

Only moments had passed outside of Harry's mind, and Rhys tapped Harry's shoulder to get him to wake up. Harry's green eyes fluttered open, and he took a deep breath.

"That was soft, thank you," Harry murmured sincerely, and Rhys had the impression that he knew what a rough entrance into a mind felt like.

"Empaths are good at that sort of thing," Rhys said, lifting himself up and sitting beside Harry on the sofa.

"Well?"

"Your mind is picturesque, if you don't mind me saying," Rhys said, and Harry blushed. "It's full of the purest Healing magic I have ever seen."

"When I died –" Harry took a shaky breath. "When I died in the Forbidden Forest, I saw Dumbledore in a place which looked very much like an ethereal version of King's Cross. When I came back to – when I came back to life, I found that my magic had started rebelling against any harsh hexes and curses. I was examined by a Healer, who almost went down on his knees begging me to become a Healer. It didn't appeal to me, but I wanted to do something with it. It meant I couldn't join the Aurors, which had me stalling for a few years after the War."

"Probably for the best; it allowed your mind to heal. You have a nasty healed scar in the back of your mind," Rhys said noncommittally. Harry chuckled humourlessly.

"Yeah, that was from Voldemort. Nasty mind link between us." Harry said, and Rhys could tell that the boy had had a bit of Mind Healing to get over it. "I'm less traumatised than many people expected after the War. I think it had something to do with my upbringing, and the fact that my magic changed so drastically after I came back."

"It's stunning, and in fact, I think I would like to offer you a position here that very few people know about."

Harry looked intrigued and raised an eyebrow.

"You have, in the back of your mind, a small box that opened as soon as I came near it. A wisp of beautiful gold magic came out. I've only seen it in a few people's minds, and they're the people who work in this particular place in my refuge."

"What does it mean? It's not bad?" Harry asked anxiously.

"No, no," Rhys rushed to reassure him. "It's not bad at all. In fact, it's very special. It means that you're a Destined."

"Destined?" Harry asked curiously.

"How was your Care of Magical Creatures education?" Rhys asked.

"Splotchy," Harry answered with a chuckle, obviously full of some very good memories.

"Well, each magical creature has a Destined partner. Most of the time, it's a creature of the same species, especially if the creature is one who can't change their forms, like a centaur, or a hippogriff. When the creature is a werewolf, occasionally a merman, a siren, a veela – who looks vaguely humanoid and for the vast majority of the time, and can live as a human, then their Destined is normally a human. However, it's very special if two Destined actually join. Most of the time, it stays dormant and it never bothers you. Sometimes, though, the Destined meet and it's one of the most special things to witness. It can take a while for two Destined to recognise each other, but the moment of realisation comes when it's right. What makes you, as a Destined, so special for me, is because we often get abused magical creatures who come here, trying to escape situations where they've been abused. We have a few here at the moment, and one who is in a particularly bad situation, and we need help."

Harry's face was expressionless as he absorbed all this information.

"May I ask you a few questions?"

"Please fire away," Rhys said, gesturing with his hands. "I am more in need of you than you are of me, after all."

Harry smiled.

"It won't affect me adversely, this Destined bond thing?"

"No, not unless you and your mate bond."

"How would I know if we bonded?" Harry asked. "I don't like magical events happening to me without knowing."

"Often, two Destined will meet and have no idea that they have met. There will come a moment, though, when your magic and your Destined's magic will spark and you will then realise. That is the moment when you make the choice. If you refuse, your magic and your Destined's will immediately become incompatible and you will likely never meet each other again unless your mate is very high profile."

Harry nodded twice, seemingly to himself.

"And this particularly bad case you were talking about?" he asked quietly as if worried he wouldn't get an answer.

"Horrific." Rhys shivered. "He's a gold fae, one of the rarest forms of fae in the world, usually hidden and guarded by other fae. They're much desired on the black market for various reasons, including the healing properties of their magic, which is why I thought that you'd be so appropriate, and their ability to sometimes foresee the future and to have an influence on nature. There's something very special about seeing one of them; you feel like you're in the presence of purity that you'd never be pure enough, ever, to be worthy of."

"What happened?" Harry asked, feeling a growing sense of dread.

"They are particularly valued because the males can become naturally pregnant. Wizards can, because of potions, but it's difficult. With a gold fae, one of the most beautiful creatures in the world, it's easy. Nothing ever comes before a gold fae other than their children. Normally, they mate to two people – one with a skill in Healing and Defensive magic, another with a skill in Offensive magic, so that their child is totally protected in every single way. This fae was raped by Death Eaters and impregnated. He had his child four years ago. Both of them are traumatised, though he succeeded in protecting his child from most of the pain. His child is very eloquent, but the fae has hidden himself in his natural form, so it's impossible to identify who he is when he's human. I must say, it's a true honour to have been able to see a gold fae – and only I have seen him. The others there who have a Destined, their magic isn't pure enough to be around him, and I haven't been able to touch him. No one knows that he and his daughter are here."

Harry had tears in his eyes as Rhys described the pain that the fae had been through.

"How did he escape?"

"One of the last raids of Lucius Malfoy's home shortly after his trial two years ago. We found him hidden in a back cellar, along with a few other escaped Death Eaters who had obviously been taking out their frustrations on the fae. Most of them were given the Dementor's Kiss, but Malfoy and others was put in Azkaban for life. There was no proof that he had...touched the fae, so he and others were sentenced on the basis of their Death Eater crimes. Mr. Malfoy could have escaped sentencing apart from the fact that he was hiding Death Eaters. Narcissa Malfoy, because of your testimony, was only sentenced to house arrest in France. She's hidden her son there, I'd wager, until he's granted political amnesty here."

"It took us too long to get around to giving the Mr. Malfoy a trial. I don't know how he escaped." Harry shook his head. "Corruption in the Ministry. I don't blame Narcissa for keeping her son safe. He was only a child."

"You were all children when you fought." Rhys said perceptively. Harry shrugged, and Rhys moved on, sensing his discomfort. "The Ministry was such a mess under the Fudge Administration that too many Death Eaters managed to escape. Thank Merlin they were found with the Malfoys."

"Lucius Malfoy is probably regretting it deeply." Harry rolled his shoulders around, sitting deeper into the sofa. Rhys gave a small smile and leant back, crossing his arms over his chest.

"Be that as it may, the fae was found there. He's been with us for two years and hasn't recovered much."

"His other mate?"

"No sign of him. They're usually male since the fae is capable of conceiving by himself."

"Are you pegging me as one of his mates?" Harry asked curiously. Rhys lifted his hands in a gesture of denial.

"I don't know. I'm hoping that if you're not, you can at least form a connection with him. He's in such a bad way, and it's killing me, as an Empath, every time I go near to him. You're the right profile for his mate, which is why I'm really pushing this at you."

"If I am?"

"You'll have to see what you do. And hopefully that you find his other mate, to see if the three of you are compatible."

Harry snorted.

"I'm not going to refuse something like this, especially because he needs so much help."

Rhys gave him a relieved smile.

"Thank you so much. You've no idea how desperate I've been."

* * *

It was another half hour before Rhys and Harry left Rhys' office since they had had to iron out the finer details of Harry's new working contract and pay. However, soon they had left his office and Rhys led Harry down the beautiful wood-panelled corridor.

They stepped through another nondescript side door, into a descending spiral staircase made of skilfully twisted iron. Harry carefully made his way down, since it got darker the lower they went, and soon they were down in an almost pitch-black corridor. A faint blue light glowed above them.

"It's reassuring for him," Rhys whispered. "More safety."

Harry felt the tension rise about them as they went further into the corridor, which seemed to disappear behind them. He shivered, feeling cold. The walls seemed to seep out cold air, and Harry's breath misted in front of him.

"My magic will prevent anyone not meant to be here from finding their way to him. Very clever confusion and disorientation spells, if I do say so myself."

Harry gave a very soft laugh but soon fell silent. Suddenly, Rhys came to a stop, lifting up his hand. A huge silver door appeared in front of them, and Harry could feel the powerful warding magic coming off it.

"It's his magic. I can't go any further. Normally I leave food out here for him and his daughter, and it's gone by the next morning. Go up to the door, I'll wait out here for however long it takes."

Harry looked sceptically at Rhys but did as he was told.

Slowly, very gently, he walked right up to the edge of the wards. He could feel them prickling angrily, but then he did something that he very rarely did. Closing his eyes, he let go of his magic. He felt it approach the wards with a tenderness he knew was modelled on how angry and injured the wards felt, and he felt it wrap soothingly around the wards, letting the fae know that he was safe. His magic spread itself over all the wards, and Harry revelled in the power and intricacy of them; it was some of the loveliest magic he had ever touched in his life, despite the pain his magic could feel.

He could feel the wards communicating something to his magic, but it was garbled and muddled. Harry pushed harder on conveying the utter safety of his magic, and the wards went out to absorb him. He gasped as he entered the other side of them, and he saw Rhys as if through a mist with his hand to his mouth.

Harry turned away from Rhys and went up to the door. It was slightly ajar, and Harry opened it so slowly that it took him almost a minute to get it open wide enough, and as soon as he stepped through, it slammed shut forcefully behind it, startling him.

He turned around to face the room he was in and an awed smile took over his face. The room was covered in grass and flowers in full bloom, and a warm breeze blew through it. There, in the middle of the field, stood a shimmering figure with gorgeous white wings. Harry had seen a fair few magical creatures with wings in his life, but this creature was ethereal. They were spread wide, a huge wingspan, and the whole of the wing bone and select feathers were a shining gold. The fae's face looking like nothing human; it was perfect, or as near to perfect as it was possible to get, flawless and gleaming. His hair was like spun gold, thin and fine, and flowed out around him. His hands were clawed, and he was wearing a white tunic. His eyes gleamed silver, flecked with gold, and Harry immediately understood why it was such a special thing to see a Gold Fae. Harry did not believe in a God, but upon seeing this figure, he believed in angels.

"Dear Merlin," he whispered breathlessly. The fae snarled furiously when he took a step forward, so Harry took a step back again and sat down very slowly on the ground. He remembered that the fae had a daughter, and assumed that she was hidden behind his wings. All he did was close his eyes and let his magic fan out again, stopping just before the fae.

It was several minutes before Harry felt the fae advance close enough so that he stepped into his magical field. He couldn't help but gasp when he felt the fae's magical signature interfere with his own. It was like a shock of pure electricity. He shivered. The fae's magic was otherworldly, and he was horrified that anyone had voluntarily tainted the fae.

"I'm Harry," he said, his voice very soft but strong enough so that it reached the fae. He felt shock run through the fae's magic, and he pushed out his magic even more.

The fae trilled ever so quietly, and a smile pulled at Harry's lips. It was a calming and beautiful sound, a pure one, and Harry let his smile take over his face and his joy at hearing it pulse through his magic. The fae took a step closer and trilled louder.

Harry opened his eyes, and he felt a tear come to it. The fae was still a fair distance away, but his wings had closed and there, standing next to his leg, was a small girl with the palest blonde hair Harry had ever seen and stunning gold eyes, ones that hinted at her parentage. She was looking ever so tentatively at Harry, and he knew that this was a huge step for the fae. He looked at him in the eye briefly, before the fae ducked his head.

"Thank you," Harry breathed. "May I come closer?" he asked, looking at the fae steadily. The moment stretched out indefinitely before the fae nodded, confirming Harry's suspicions that he could understand human speech – and English human speech, furthermore.

He stood up and walked ever so slowly towards the fae, letting him see all of his movements. He stopped right in front of the fae, only about three steps away, and then slowly, carefully lowered himself so that he was sitting on the ground and lower than the fae's daughter. She looked at him curiously before looking up at the fae, who nodded and purred softly. She let go of his leg and took a very brave step forward.

"And who are you?" Harry asked, remembering that Rhys said she was eloquent for her age.

"Ismay," she replied. "You're Harry."

"That's such a pretty name! You heard me, didn't you, Ismay?" Harry asked, trying out the name and giving her a wide grin. She peeked shyly at him and nodded quickly. With a sudden, rushed movement, the fae dropped down so that he was crouched beside Ismay. She turned towards him instinctively, curling her small body against his side. A wing automatically wrapped around her and the fae made a very quiet sound in the back of his throat as if to reassure his daughter. Ismay smiled against his shoulder. Harry assumed that she could somehow understand him.

"Can you understand your daddy?" he asked her. She looked at him and burrowed even further into the fae until all that was visible of her was her head, since the rest of her body was wrapped up by the wing. She nodded.

"Well, Ismay, do you know what I should call your daddy?" Harry asked, keeping his body stance open and non-threatening, his magic still fanned out around him. Ismay shook her head anxiously, and the fae rumbled at her. His eyes were pinned on Harry, and Harry had the distinct feeling that he was being sized up by him.

"It's okay, you won't be in trouble for not knowing," Harry said. "It means I can give your daddy a great nickname!" he said, giving an exaggerated grin. He glanced back at the fae to see that the eyes had lowered again. It seemed that he could only maintain eye contact if his daughter was being threatened. "Hmmm…how about Goldilocks?" he asked her, and Ismay giggled, pushing aside the fae's wing so that Harry was able to see her whole body. She was still curled into the fae, but Harry recognised this for the step it was.

"No! That's silly!" she giggled again, putting her hand up to her mouth nervously. The fae rumbled again, deep inside his chest, reassuringly. He wrapped an arm around her and rolled her around so that she was hanging over his knee and he was tickling her. She gave loud shrieks of laughter, and the beautiful smile on the fae's face told Harry that he was pleased. The love between the two of them brought a tear to Harry's eye. He could see that how deeply they adored each other, and how Ismay relied totally on her father.

The fae dropped Ismay gently to the ground, making sure that she was supported in every way. Harry could see what Rhys had meant, saying that any child of a fae's would be his absolute priority. It was breath-taking.

"Okay…what about…" Harry paused. "How about I call him Angel, seeing as he's so good at protecting you, hmm?" he asked, and Ismay gave the fae an adoring look, which he returned, and she nodded rapidly.

"He's the best," she confided in Harry, and Harry smiled.

"How did you learn to speak, sweetheart?" he asked, looking at the now-nicknamed Angel for permission to speak to his daughter. Angel nodded but stayed close to Ismay.

"Daddy taught me," she replied, twiddling with her long blonde hair nervously. Angel crouched down beside her and unravelled her hair from her finger, kissing her finger when it was finally untangled. She smiled and murmured a quiet 'sorry'. Angel rumbled back at her soothingly, and she seemed to take comfort in that.

"Was he always like this?" he asked, looking carefully at Angel, who frowned at the question but did nothing to stop Ismay from answering it.

"No, Daddy can speak, but he says he does this to protect me," she said, looking anxiously at her father. He picked her up again and rocked her gently in his arms until she looked completely relaxed again. He kissed her face several times, drawing a sleepy smile from her, and trilled a series of notes at her that had her nodding more and more lethargically, until she fell asleep, utterly safe in her father's arms. Harry put a hand to his face to stem the tears. His magic heaved for a moment, answering his emotions, but he soon got it under control. When he looked up again, he saw that his upheaval had not gone unnoticed by Angel, who was looking at him, considering something. Then, taking Harry by surprise, he offered him his hand. Harry noticed that the claws there earlier had disappeared.

"Really?" he asked. Angel trilled softly, and Harry took it as an affirmative. He took his hand and felt a wash of incredible magic go over him, and then he felt it snap into place. Angel quickly snatched back his hand, and Harry lowered his to the ground so that they were as far away from Angel as they could get.

 _Can you hear me?_ a quiet, uncertain voice filled his mind. Harry gasped and dug his fingers into the ground to stop rearing back suddenly.

"Oh Merlin, you're speaking! I can hear you!" Harry looked at him in amazement.

Angel gave a tentative smile, but his wings wrapping around his waist and hiding his daughter gave away his fear of communicating like this.

 _You've been so careful_ , Angel replied, and his voice sounded so scared and faint that it was all Harry could do not to give him a hug. He knew that it would be absolutely the wrong thing to do, especially since he was carrying his daughter.

"I would never hurt you, I swear to you," Harry said determinedly. "I'm not a good person, but I'm a caring one."

 _I know,_ Angel said, _your magic says so. It's very calming_.

Harry laughed in delight.

"I've never been able to properly use it."

 _Now you have the chance,_ Angel murmured, and Harry felt the bitterness in the words.

"Hey," he said, putting out his hand very slowly and letting it hover just in front of the fae. Angel had pulled back a bit at his movement but halted and allowed himself to come forward again when he saw that Harry wasn't going to move. "You're braver than you can possibly know, and your daughter is a wonder to behold. You've raised her right, considering your circumstances."

 _I can't talk to you about that,_ Angel said immediately. _I have the memories, but they're my human side more than my fae side. And my human side is not ready to come out yet. He's too traumatised. I need to heal, and Issy needs to heal as well_.

Harry was astonished at the number of words he heard, and couldn't stop smiling.

"I'm sorry, I really am, but I'm so glad that you're speaking to me," Harry said gently, making sure that Angel did not misinterpret his expression. "It means I can help you."

 _I don't trust you,_ Angel replied instantly, frowning. Harry felt the fae's magic surge.

"I know," Harry answered. "But you let me in. You're talking to me."

 _Yes,_ Angel said, sitting down on the grass. Harry watched in fascination as the grass grew taller, greener, and softer around the fae. Ismay stirred in his arms, and the fae's attention turned to his daughter at once, shushing her and brushing a hand through her hair until she calmed again. _Your magic talked to mine._ He looked steadily at Harry, the first time he had maintained eye contact, and Harry blushed.

 _I hoped it would,_ Harry thought to the fae and was gratified to see his eyes widen in surprise.

 _You shouldn't be able to do that,_ he said, standing up and backing away.

Harry stood up quickly, holding his arms out and backing away so as not to crowd Angel.

"Hey, hey, it's okay, I'm sorry," Harry said, slowly lowering himself to the ground again, far enough away that Angel could see his every move almost as soon as he made it. He calmed his magic down and let it pull away from Angel, standing just far away enough that the fae knew that he wasn't trying to calm him. As soon as his magic left Angel, he felt the mind link snap. "Don't worry. I didn't know. I won't do it again."

Angel stepped forward again into Harry's magic, and the mind link came back into place. It hummed in Harry's mind, and Harry's magic welcomed it.

 _You surprised me. It means that my magic has received yours more than I expected._

They stopped and stared at each other. Harry chuckled and bowed his head, knowing that it was the wrong time to bring up that subject.

"I've got to go," he said. "And I think that you and Ismay need to sleep. Is it okay if I come again tomorrow, at the same time?"

Angel lowered his eyes and nodded quickly before the air shimmered and he seemed to disappear. Harry knew that he hadn't, but that the audience was over. Still moving incredibly slowly, he backed away to the door and walked through it backwards, letting it shut in front of him.

Taking a huge breath and letting it go, he turned around to Rhys, who was leaning against the wall, tapping the floor anxiously. Rhys jumped up as soon as he saw him, and Harry gave a delighted laugh, moving out of the fae's buzzing magic.

"You will never believe what happened!"

* * *

 _A/N:_ _I don't know how long this is going to be, or how regularly I'm going to update, but the writing bug has hit me again, and I have a clear ending in mind, which means that it shouldn't take me too long. How great is that? Please let me know what you think of this chapter._

 _If anyone who reads this is reading_ _Always_ _, please be aware that I haven't forgotten it. I'm going through my chapters again updating it, editing it, and my muse hasn't hit there, so hang in there, please. It's not abandoned, just paused._


	2. Chapter 2

_A/N:_ _Thank you to_ _ **SerpensPrincess**_ _for being the first to review and galvanising me into writing this chapter._

 _Disclaimer:_ _None of my work belongs to me, it is solely the property of the one and only J.K. Rowling and any other company which has the copyright of Harry Potter, including Warner Bros. Nothing here belongs to me; all the characters are J.K. Rowling's originally, though any new character not part of the Harry Potter series belongs to me._

* * *

 **Title:** I stand for freedom

 **Author:** hpjkrowling4ever

Chapter Two

Rhys was pacing back and forth in his office, one of his hands lifted to his chin and the other tapping at his thigh. Harry, still reeling from his meeting with Angel, was lying on the sofa, his eyes closed. The fire crackled merrily, and apart from Rhys' anxious movements, the moment was peaceful, and exactly what Harry needed to digest what had happened.

"A mind link? Harry, this is huge!" Rhys stopped in front of Harry, and snapped his fingers in front of his face until Harry opened his eyes blearily. He frowned at Rhys.

"Please don't." Harry shook himself. "I'm sorry, it's just that I've never experienced something so wonderful in my life, and I don't want to let go of it."

Reluctantly, Rhys calmed himself down and smiled gently down at Harry.

"I'm told that feeling the magic of a fae, any fae, is life changing. To feel the magic of a Gold Fae…" Rhys whistled lowly. Harry smiled.

"I need to meet some of these other faes you're talking about," he said, stretching lethargically. He yawned.

Rhys looked at him contemplatively, tapping his cheek. Harry looked back evenly, wishing that he was still back with Angel. There was something so serene about being around him, so calming, that Harry wanted to be back there. And Ismay…she was brilliant. Harry could tell that, with lots of love and care, she would be quite the character. Unbeknownst to Harry, an absent smile stretched across his face, but Rhys saw it and it made up his mind.

"Come here tomorrow morning, and I'll introduce you to some other of our creatures who have sanctuary here. We had a few faes here until recently, when they felt they were strong enough to leave and we agreed with them. Most of them were mated, and had left their families to come here for sanctuary. We currently have two faes left here, one mated, one unmated."

"What's up with them?" Harry asked. "And what type of fae are they?"

"The mated one is a Silver Fae. He was in a nasty fight with a manticore and came here for healing. He's almost sorted, and his family comes quite regularly to visit."

"So, you're not just a sanctuary, you're also a hospital?" Harry asked in confusion.

Rhys nodded.

"Only for magical creatures. St. Mungo's is still quite prejudiced against them, and we provide non-judgemental care."

Harry sighed in annoyance. Though Kingsley was a good Minister, every move he made was like fighting in an upstream battle.

"The unmated fae is an Offensive Fae. He was caught in the crossfire in the War, and his right wing was injured. He reacts badly to loud sounds, but otherwise is fine. He's recuperating now, and going through therapy for his PTSD."

"How many different types of fae are there? And is there a fae community out there?" Harry asked with keen interest. Having now met Angel, he wanted to know more.

Rhys sat down beside him and stared into the fire.

"Most magical creatures have communities. The werewolf community was almost decimated by Fenrir Greyback, who used to be an excellent leader but Voldemort corrupted him. It's getting back on its feet, thanks to you."

"One of my surrogate godparents was a werewolf. I wanted to do something in his memory," Harry whispered, the blank face of Remus flashing before his eyes, replaced by the laughing one of Teddy. Rhys, recognising Harry's pain, put a hand on his shoulder in sympathy before going back to his explanation.

"The Veela community is based in France. They hold meetings every two months for all the veelas worldwide, and it is also an opportunity for any new mated couples to introduce themselves and for new mates to be found. Most humanoid creatures have a base country, and that is where meetings are held. Centaurs, for example, meet near ancient sites such as Stonehenge regularly. Other magical creatures, like vampires, are more solitary, but operate in covens."

"And faes?" Harry asked. Rhys smiled.

"There are five types of faes: silver, offensive, defensive, healing, and gold. Their main base is in Ireland, the Emerald Isle. They are rumoured to be closely linked with the Faerie community. They work intimately with nature, caring for it and defending it. They also blend in seamlessly with our human societies, and for faes who have mated with humans, their children often grow up as humans with fae attributes, but only come into a full inheritance at seventeen, the wizarding age of majority. Sometimes, offspring of humans and faes don't ever inherit, but their descendants may. Silver and Gold Faes are the most hidden, normally, and it is difficult for human descendants of fae to inherit their attributes. Silver and Gold Faes will always mate with at least one fae and one wizard, sometimes two fae, but never two wizards. I explained about their mates' properties earlier," Rhys described, looking carefully at Harry's reactions.

Harry had a faraway look in his eyes, taking everything in. Rhys smiled secretly to himself. He had been lucky enough to be present when one of his previous employees had bonded with a fae, and the moment had been so special that he knew he would cherish it forever. Looking at Harry now, Rhys had no doubt in his mind that Harry and the Gold Fae were Destined. He had never heard of a Gold Fae establishing such an intimate link with anyone without their magic accepting the person as someone safe. He was so traumatised, though, that Rhys hoped Harry would connect with the Offensive Fae who had been lying in his ward for so many months now. Having both his mates nearby would help the Gold Fae and Ismay immeasurably. Rhys loved his magical creatures with all his heart; it was his calling, his vocation, to make sure that they all survived, and he could see the same deep care that he had for all those beings reflected in Harry's eyes.

He had never had the honour of meeting Harry Potter before, and to be honest, he had never thought that he would. The sacrifice that Harry had willingly made of himself for the whole Wizarding World was something incomprehensible to Rhys. That a seventeen-year-old boy had done that blew Rhys' mind, and he knew he would never be able to thank Harry enough for the freedom he had given to not just him, but every magical creature whose chances of surviving increased dramatically in a world without the prejudices of Lord Voldemort. The waves that Harry Potter was making in the Ministry were becoming legendary. His deep-seated hatred of bureaucracy was well-known, and Rhys had often chuckled about it with his friends. He could see that Harry had already formed a deep attachment to Ismay and the Gold Fae, and he wished that he knew what was putting that wistful, longing look on Harry's face.

"Harry?" Rhys asked, loath to interrupt what was obviously a beautiful memory for Harry. He touched Harry's arm and immediately snatched it back when Harry sprung back. There was a moment of awkward silence and then Harry ran his hand through his hair.

"Sorry, sorry!" Harry chuckled sheepishly. "It's just…I was thinking about the fae, and how he was reacting, and I just automatically reacted like that." He chuckled nervously. "And I suppose I'm not great at surprise touches as well."

"I should have worked that out, I'm sorry. You lived through a war, after all, and I'm dealing with PTSD patients," Rhys apologised. Harry waved him away casually, yawning.

"Nah, don't worry. I'm not usually like this. If I was, Merlin knows that my friends would be missing limbs by now. They surprise me so much I'm practically over it." Harry stood up and cracked his back. He yawned again. "I'm beat. I'll be back tomorrow, first thing. What time do you open?"

Rhys stood up, chuckling.

"We're always open. Come whenever you're ready."

"You're so going to regret saying that," Harry murmured, almost under his breath. Rhys heard him and smiled, but decided not to comment and instead put out his hand. Harry shook it, his eyes shining.

* * *

Before Flooing home, Harry had decided to stop by Hermione and Ron's. He walked through an slowly emptying Diagon Alley, and Flooed from the Leaky Cauldron. George and Lee Jordan had developed a spell that allowed people to Floo from wherever they wanted, and the Floo connection keyed into the person's magical signature instead of the location's and allowed them in based on that. It had totally revolutionised Floo travel, and at that moment Harry was eternally grateful for it.

As he always did, he stumbled upon exiting the Floo, but as always, he was caught by whoever happened to be in the room at the time. On this occasion, it was Ron who was there, and he righted Harry.

"When will you learn, mate?" Ron asked, a joking smile on his freckled face. As always, Harry was immensely relieved to see Ron; his best friend had not changed much over the years, and Harry was thankful for his unwavering support (almost) all the time.

Hermione had obviously heard the Floo chime, because she walked into the room, an ink smudge on her nose and a roll of parchment in her hands. Ron smiled fondly and moved to Scourgify her nose, giving it an absent-minded kiss when he was done. Hermione blushed, but brightened when she saw Harry.

"Harry! We weren't expecting you!" she said, walking over to him and giving one of her trademark hugs. Harry sank into it and hugged her back tightly.

"When do I need an excuse to come and visit you, 'Mione?" he asked, pulling back and raising an eyebrow to look at her. She laughed and smacked him over the head with her roll of parchment. He rubbed the spot and frowned at her, but couldn't hold it for long.

"You're looking brighter," she said perceptively, running her eyes over him. Ron had noticed, too, and before Hermione could even open her mouth, he had Summoned three butterbeers from their kitchen and was settling down in one of the armchairs around the fire. Harry grabbed one and spread himself on their sofa, stretching out his legs. Hermione sat on the floor, as was her custom in situation where the three of them were alone and together.

"I think I've found something to do again," Harry announced. Hermione's eyes lit up and Ron looked excited. "Okay, I wasn't that bad, was I?"

"Mate, you were _awful_. It was like fifth year all over again. Though this year was better than last year. Ginny agreed with us. She was going to do something drastic if it didn't get better." Ron drank from his bottle, ignoring Harry's injured look.

"You'd think that breaking up with Harry would have been drastic enough," Hermione mused. Ron chuckled. Harry glowered at them both, his rush of affection towards them diminishing at a rapid pace.

"Nah, Gin could never have settled for the quietness Harry wanted. She's like Charlie. I'm just glad you guys got over it nicely." Ron shook his hand out. "And Harry's my brother anyway without marrying her, like Mum would ever have given him up."

"What did I do to deserve you guys?" Harry said melodramatically, wiping his brow, but he knew Ron and Hermione could tell how touched he was by Ron's words. Ron gave a snort of laughter.

"You're in a pretty good mood," he observed. Hermione's curiosity seemed to have been properly roused now, and she looked earnestly at Harry, who gave in immediately.

He started talking about his day, going through finding the building and then the meeting with Rhys and what he did with people and magical creatures. He paused before talking about the fae, not wanting to talk about something that felt so personal for a moment. Hermione caught on pretty quick, as she always did.

"You met one of his magical creatures, didn't you?" Hermione asked.

"I did more than meet one." Harry took a deep breath. "Before you panic, Rhys is an Empath, and I felt like I could trust him immediately."

Ron looked skeptical.

"You don't just trust people immediately, Harry," he pointed out, looking towards Hermione for confirmation. She was so intent on Harry that she didn't seem to register that Ron was looking for her support.

"I think Harry has something really important he wants to tell us about," Hermione said. "Go on, Harry."

Harry smiled gratefully at her.

"Rhys saw something interesting in my mind."

"In your mind?" Ron shouted, standing up. "Harry, are you mad? Do you remember last time someone was in your mind?" He looked furious with Harry, but Hermione shot him a look and he subsided, sitting back down in his seat.

"Look, I know, and I was worried as well, but Rhys runs a rehabilitation centre and a refuge. He's also an Empath and reminded me a bit of Remus," Harry's voice wavered slightly, and Hermione leaned across the floor to squeeze Harry's knee. "I didn't think he was going to do anything to me. He was kind and gentle and he saw that I was a Destined."

"A _what_?" Hermione asked, looking rather put out that Harry had announced something she didn't know. She glanced over at Ron, but he was gaping at Harry in amazement.

"You're a Destined? A real, live Destined?" he asked, his anger completely gone.

Hermione was looking more and more put out.

"What is a Destined?" she asked, raising an eyebrow. Ron launched into an explanation that had her eyes widening in Harry's direction.

"Yeah, that was my reaction too," Harry said, smiling. "But he was most interested by my magic. He said that it was so inclined towards Healing that he wanted me to help him out with a project of his. Maybe he did it because my magic was like that, but I think he also did it because I'm Harry Potter and I sacrificed myself. I think he figured that he could trust me."

Hermione was looking at Harry as if he was a book she would especially love to study. Ron and Hermione were no strangers to Harry's magic, having been there when Harry had had his magic examined by a Healer. They had even tried to get him to go into Healing, but Harry had solidly refused.

"What did he get you to do, Harry?" Hermione asked.

"Okay, so this is a secret, don't tell anyone," Harry warned, lifting a finger. Ron rolled his eyes.

"Yes, because we're _so good_ at telling your secrets," he said sarcastically. "Come on, mate!"

"Okay, okay. It's just…it was really special. There was an injured and abused Gold Fae there." Harry looked at his friends. Hermione was frowning, and before Ron could launch into another explanation, Harry did it. "Gold Fae are some of the most cherished, special fae in the world. They have the ability to carry their young, and their young is their priority, over every single thing in the world. They're meant to have two Destineds. One is normally human, the other a fae. They must have skill in Offensive, Defensive and Healing magic to be able to protect their child in every way possible."

"What happened to the fae?" Hermione asked, looking as if she would rather not know the answer. Ron had put down his butterbeer and was looking uncharacteristically serious.

"They raped him, didn't they?" Ron asked bluntly. Hermione flinched and stared at Harry in horror.

"And worse, Ron. I took one step forward and he flinched back. I was metres away from him as well," Harry said, swallowing and looking away. "He was so injured. He was so beautiful. I've never seen anything so stunning and precious in my whole life. I feel like nothing can measure up to that purity I saw." He closed his eyes, picturing Angel standing there with his wings outstretched. "And he had a daughter. She had been born early in his captivity, because she was four years old. Exceptionally well-spoken."

"The young of humanoid creatures usually are," Hermione said in a small voice, as if telling her boyfriend and her best friend facts could take away from the horror of the trauma.

"She's called Ismay. She has the softest blonde hair and incredible gold eyes. She's something else. I know that she was created from a rape, but she looks exactly like the fae, and I don't think she could be more loved."

"Harry?" Hermione asked tentatively, sliding over so that her elbow was leaning on the sofa cushion by his knee. Her eyes met Harry's and she saw the shadows there left from the War melting away as he thought of the fae and his daughter. They seemed to glow with some inner power he had tapped into, and Hermione realised with a sudden jolt that the fae had caught that part of Harry's heart that she once thought belonged to Ginny. And oblivious as Harry was, she knew that he had yet to realise it.

"Yeah?" Harry gave her a soft smile, one that he reserved for his closest friends. Hermione had seen little of it in the years following the War, and was delighted to see it back. She could feel Ron staring at them, and hoped that he would recognise the look in Harry's eyes for what it was.

"I'm so glad that you've found this fae, and it sounds like you'll be perfect for him," she said, leaning up and kissing Harry's forehead. "Now, if you're going to be there bright and early, I'd recommend that you go to sleep now."

Harry gave her a tired smile and stood up. She was glad that he was taking her advice, and stood up with him. Impulsively, she gave him a tight hug. Her heart was beating fast, and she felt slightly unsteady with the relief coursing through her.

"I'm glad you're back, Harry," she whispered. She saw Ron stand up and walk over to join their hug.

"Me too, mate, me too."

They stayed wrapped in the hug for long moments before Harry slowly extricated himself and moved to the Floo. As the fire blazed green and Harry disappeared, Hermione threw her arms around Ron and laughed in delight.

"It seems like we're going to have a fae in the family!"

"You saw that too?" Ron asked, laughing and twirling her around. She saw the same relief she felt reflected in his eyes.

"I'm so happy, Ron," she murmured, burying her head in his shoulder. Ron wrapped his arms around her, and the feeling of safety she always felt in Ron's arms washed over her. He put his hand on the back of her head and kissed her temple.

* * *

The next morning, Harry arrived at the refuge bright and early. He walked into the building with a spring in his step, and greeted Gabi, who was writing furiously behind the desk, with a big smile. She smiled back.

"I see that yesterday went well," she observed. Harry didn't know if she knew about Angel, so he said nothing, but nodded.

"Did Rhys leave something for me to do?" he asked curiously, making his way to the desk and leaning on it. Gabi frowned for a moment, thinking about his question. She put her quill in her mouth and Harry watched, quietly amused, as ink from the quill nib travelled down and stained her mouth. She started coughing when she tasted it and suddenly unbalanced on her chair and fell onto the ground. Alarmed, Harry leant over further, but relaxed when he heard Gabi laughing. He smiled in relief.

"I'm so clumsy, sorry about that!" She stood up, bouncing on the balls of her feet with restrained energy. "Yes, Rhys said that you could go to the MC ward." She looked at him expectantly, and he looked back at her equally expectantly. "Ah. You don't know where that is, do you?"

"No, I don't," Harry said, smiling gently. She sighed and looked conflicted.

"I'm technically not allowed to leave my desk, and you're so early that most of the other people who work here aren't here yet. Wait!" she dived under the desk, leaving Harry deeply confused until she popped up again holding an orb. "It's a Direction Orb. MC Ward," she announced confidently, and the orb glowed green before announcing that Harry needed to go through the double doors he had gone through yesterday. She handed the orb to Harry.

"Thanks, Gabi," he said, smiling at her. She smiled back and waved him away.

Harry tried very hard to remember where the orb was leading him, but he got steadily more and more confused as it led him through a few doors, down some long corridors and then it stopped him in front of a high wooden door. Harry could feel the magic buzzing, but it receded almost as soon as he came into contact with him, allowing him through. He assumed that Rhys must have keyed him into the wards leading to the section with the magical creatures in it.

He pushed the doors open and jumped a bit when the orb vibrated in his hand briefly before going red and silent. Harry assumed that he was there, and looked up. He immediately recognised a waiting area, with cushy sofas and a pile of different magazines and newspapers on tables near them. There were a few fires roaring in the grates, and there was a desk in the middle of the room, but it was currently empty. Harry sighed to himself; he knew that he was early, but he hadn't realised he was _that_ early.

"May I help you?" a deep, strong voice said. It had a trace of an Irish accent to it. Harry whirled around and came face-to-face with a ridiculously tall and muscular man. However, after a moment of observing him, Harry realised that he had to be anything _but_ human. He carried himself unnaturally well; his hair was black, long, tied up in a bun, but seemed to shine with an eerie sheen. His eyes were deep violet and Harry felt like they could see in his very soul. He shivered. The man carried no wand, and was dressed in a long black robe with a high collar, giving Harry the distinct impression that he was native to a different culture. Something about him felt vaguely threatening, though Harry couldn't place what.

"Erm…I'm here because this…erm…orb led me here," Harry announced, feeling very wrong-footed, though he didn't know why.

"You're not a fae," the man announced.

"Erm…no, no I'm not," Harry agreed, aborting his automatic shrug before it even started. He thought that the man wouldn't appreciate it, somehow.

"You're not a magical creature," the man continued, taking a step forward. Harry took an automatic step back and put his hand in his pocket, feeling for his wand. The man snapped his fingers and his wand flew out of his pocket into his hand.

"Hey!" Harry shouted, and his magic reacted automatically, bursting out and forming a translucent shield in front of Harry. He vaguely registered the man's eyebrows rising and him lifting his hands up in a non-threatening gesture.

"I apologise," he said loudly, his voice coming through the shield sounding a bit distorted. Harry reigned back his instinctive reaction and his shield disappeared.

"Can I have my wand back, thanks?" he asked irritably. His feeling of discomfort had increased dramatically.

The man threw Harry's wand into the air and it floated slowly towards Harry, who snatched it out of the air but did not put it back in his pocket.

"May I ask why you are here if you are neither a fae nor a magical creature?" the man asked.

"Why are you talking about fae?" Harry grumbled, still out of sorts, though he was calming down.

"You have the mark of a fae on your magic," the man stated. "Not any fae either; a gold one. I was concerned that you might be a threat since no human has ever treated a gold fae the way they deserve. I felt your magic, though, and I knew at once that you were no such thing. I apologise for my reaction," the man gave an odd little half-bow, and Harry decided that he needed a coffee. He put his wand in his pocket and smiled tentatively.

"I'm Harry," he said, holding out his hand. The man hesitated for a short time before taking Harry's hand in his own. He felt a similar shock of magic that he had yesterday when he and Angel had touched, and he reared back at the same time as the man took a half-step back.

"You're a fae!" Harry burst out. "You must be the Offensive fae Rhys was talking about!"

"You have a mind-link with a gold fae!" the other fae bit out. Harry could see the wonder etched clearly on his face. "How?" he breathed.

"That's not for me to say," Harry said shortly. "Why did I feel that shock with you?" he asked.

"That's not for me to say," the fae repeated with a wry half-smile.

Harry sighed, knowing that he had deserved that. He knew that he must have looked quite put out at the situation, because the fae seemed to take a hold of himself.

"My apologies. I'm Elliot." The fae gestured to the seats in the waiting area. "I fear we got off to a wrong start. Please sit down. I'll get something to drink and we can talk to each other."

Harry decided that that was quite a solid plan and fell down thankfully on a really comfortable sofa that moulded itself to his body shape as soon as he sank down in it. Elliot disappeared from the room and came back moments later with two mugs of coffee.

"I assumed that at this time of the morning, you might prefer something strong. I certainly do," Elliot announced, sitting down in the armchair beside Harry's sofa. Harry took the mug with a smile.

"Thank you," he said. Elliot blew on his mug before looking back at Harry. "You're quite formal," Harry observed, seeing how Elliot was sitting perfectly in his chair, even though it was a comfortable armchair.

"I am twenty-five. The reason I am so formal is because I have grown up with the faes in Ireland, and we are quite a formal society. My parents, my siblings and I moved here when I was seven. My father is the chief ambassador for the fae community with the British Ministry of Magic. Who are you, Harry?"

"That's quite a loaded question," Harry muttered. "Let's see how up-to-date you are. My full name is Harry Potter."

The fae's eyebrows went up.

"Your magic is different to what I expected," Elliot said. It was an unexpected question, and Harry laughed when he heard it.

"Thank you for asking something original," he chuckled. Elliot smiled. Harry was taken aback by the way the smile made Elliot's face light up. He recovered himself after a moment of silence. "The War left plenty of scars on me, but the best thing it did was bring out the Healing and Defensive aspects of my magic."

"I felt that," Elliot nodded, sipping his coffee. Harry followed suit and there was a moment of comfortable silence before Elliot spoke up again. "Tell me why you're here."

"I came across this place yesterday. I've been trying to find something to do with myself since the War finished, so I entered. I met Rhys, Gabi and her daughter. Rhys took me on, and because of my magic he asked if I could help with…erm…the magical creatures here. He mentioned that there were two faes here," Harry said.

"Yes, and a centaur, four werewolves, one siren, two veela and a goblin. They were very busy here following the War, and after my wing was healed I stayed here for therapy. I am feeling a lot better now, but I am not quite healed. I offered to help out here while I was waiting to be signed off. It is a very peaceful place," Elliot said, looking around. Harry could see the deep-seated contentment Elliot felt, and finally relaxed completely.

"I'm sorry for not introducing myself immediately when I came in," Harry said, smiling apologetically. "You took me by surprise."

Elliot laughed. It was a wonderfully bright, happy sound, and Harry's smile grew wider.

"I never quite learnt the art of blending in," Elliot replied, still chuckling. "My sisters are much better at it than I am, but I am very proud of my heritage and I want everyone to know what I am. I hide my wings now, because of what happened," Elliot's smile disappeared, and Harry saw the same haunted look appear in his eyes that Harry often saw in his own and his friends' sometimes.

"They were injured," Harry stated, not inviting any more from Elliot, and he seemed to appreciate it. His smile reappeared, though slightly dampened, and he took a long look at Harry. He decided that he liked what he saw, and elaborated.

"Yes, they were. I was with my father. Ambassadorship is inherited in our community. My family has held the fae ambassadorship for centuries, and my father was training me to take over. Lord Voldemort's government had called in all the representatives of the magical creature states, and while we were all in that meeting room, his henchman started firing at us." Elliot looked away, and Harry lowered his eyes out of respect. The event had obviously been suppressed, because Harry had never heard that it had happened. "So many of us died. My father and I survived because of our wings. Offensive fae have very strong wings. We can withstand some of the strongest hexes and a fair few curses. We escaped, and we found this place in Diagon. My family took refuge here while my father and I were healed. My father was healed a lot faster than I was, because he is many years older than me and thus his magic has settled. I have been here since the end of the war."

"Your family moved back?" Harry whispered, not wanting to raise his voice.

"No, we are still here, trying to make inroads on behalf of the fae with the new government. In comparison to Lord Voldemort, it is a much more satisfying one to work with," Elliot said.

"I'm sorry for what happened to you," Harry said sincerely. "I'm sorry that it happened."

"It is not your fault, Harry Potter," Elliot said, but the half-smile on his face told Harry that he had appreciated his apology. "I am much better now. But do tell me why you have the magic of a gold fae on yours."

Harry chuckled nervously.

"I don't think it's my secret to tell," he answered, shifting in his seat. Elliot looked at him for a long moment.

"As son of the fae ambassador, I _must_ know where you interacted with a gold fae. We thought that we had rescued all the gold fae and sent them back to Ireland." Elliot looked rather anxious. "They are so precious, Harry. There are so few of them, and we look after every single one of them. The magical signature on yours is different to all the fae I know."

"That's because this particular fae came into his inheritance when the War kicked off," Harry murmured, Angel's face appeared in his mind's eye. "He thought he was a human."

Elliot put down his coffee cup and stared at Harry.

"He's _injured_?" he asked, a slight note of hysteria in his voice. "Someone _injured_ a Gold Fae?"

Harry shook his head. It wasn't in denial, but because he knew that he didn't want to reveal any more. Elliot looked appalled.

"I'm going to talk to Rhys about it," Elliot decided, looking determined.

"Please don't," Harry said desperately. "I've already told you too much, but trust me when I say that Rhys has it in hand. Elliot, listen to me." He put a hand on Elliot's arm, stopping the fae from rising. Elliot subsided but still looked unhappy. "For some reason, this fae trusts me. Trust _me_ when I tell you that there is much more to the story than you know. Let me do what I can with him, and then I will ask for your help."

"You must let me tell my father," Elliot said, looking mutinous. "I don't think you understand how awful this is, Harry."

"Even if I didn't understand the intricacies of your culture, which I don't, I understand injured and hurting people, Elliot. Let me help him. It would be too much for him if you or your father came barging in. He's in his full fae form, and can't speak verbally."

Harry was aghast to see that Elliot's eyes had started tearing up.

"What? What did I say?" Harry asked, moving to kneel in front of Elliot, who swiped at his eyes angrily.

"When a fae is in their full form and non-verbal, it means that they have been so traumatised that they have buried themselves underneath their instincts," Elliot took a deep, shaky breath. It was quite odd to see such a strong person look so fragile, and Harry's heart beat out a staccato rhythm, and he felt a powerful urge to make Elliot feel better.

"Hey, hey," Harry slowly put his hand on Elliot's thigh, and squeezed when his touch wasn't pushed away. "Give me some time, until he becomes verbal again. Then let me get his permission to talk to your father. You can tell your father, but tell him not to interfere. I won't do anything to hurt him, I promise you. But I'm probably more familiar to him than fae at the moment. He's been a captive since his inheritance."

Elliot gave a sharp nod. He put his hand on top of Harry's and squeezed. Harry smiled, a faint blush on his cheeks.

"Thank you, Harry," he whispered. There was a moment of easy silence between them before Elliot rose, taking Harry with him. "Let me introduce you to the other people in this ward, seeing as you are so keen to help."

Harry gave a half-hearted chuckle, still reeling from the depth of emotion he and Elliot had just shared between them. But the sparkling eyes of the fae in front of him persuaded Harry, and he followed Elliot deeper into the ward.

* * *

 _A/N:_ _I hope you enjoyed that! Let me know if you enjoyed it (reviews encourage me to write *_ _winks*_ _)_


	3. Chapter 3

_A/N:_ _ **SerpensPrincess**_ _, you made my day again when you reviewed the previous chapter first! Thank you once more :) I'm sorry that this chapter is slightly shorter, real life has caught up with me, but I'm getting going again so don't worry!_

 _Disclaimer:_ _None of my work belongs to me, it is solely the property of the one and only J.K. Rowling and any other company which has the copyright of Harry Potter, including Warner Bros. Nothing here belongs to me; all the characters are J.K. Rowling's originally, though any new character not part of the Harry Potter series belongs to me._

* * *

 **Title:** I stand for freedom

 **Author:** hpjkrowling4ever

Chapter Three

Harry found himself thoroughly enjoying his morning at the refuge. Before starting Harry on any jobs, Elliot decided to bring him around and introduce him to all the magical creatures who were currently residing there.

Elliot first introduced him to the werewolves. There were four of them, ranging quite significantly in age. The oldest was well into his sixties, and had horrific burn scars on his face. There was one in his forties who had a broken arm, another in his twenties who had a black eye and a broken leg. The youngest one was thirteen, and he struck a chord with Harry. He had been kicked out of his house after he had been bitten by a werewolf, and his parents had withdrawn him from Hogwarts. The boy was reserved and surly, and Harry made a note to come back later.

The siren was in a room to herself. It had a pool at the back of it and a bed near the door. She was lying on the side of the pool, one foot in the water. Harry wasn't able to see what was wrong with her immediately, until she smiled at him and signed something instead of speaking it. Horrified, he looked at Elliot, who shook his head sadly. Harry walked over to her and kindly introduced himself, deeply apologetic that he wasn't able to sign. She explained, through Elliot, that she had been caught by Lord Voldemort's Snatchers and managed to escape, but not before one of them slashed her voice box. Her innate magic had managed to save some of it, but she had had to take refuge here and was still waiting for a cure.

The two veela were rooming together, but Elliot and Harry found them in the common room. Harry was amazed at the captivating beauty of the two, but found himself thinking back absently to Angel and deciding that the fae, and his enthralling magic, was much more to his taste. He didn't notice Elliot glancing at him in interest when he realised that Harry was totally unaffected by the thrall of the veelas, who, because of their injuries, were unable to properly control it. They were very polite, but Harry could tell that they were a bit wary of him. The goblin, sitting in a corner of the common room, was even warier. Elliot could tell that Harry was also cagy around the goblin, and wondered what the backstory was to that and if it had anything to do with the Gringotts break-in his father had mentioned had happened at the tail end of the War.

Harry and the centaur hit it off almost immediately, mainly because the centaur had heard of him from Firenze. The centaur was suffering from various injuries he had received during the War, and Harry wanted very much to sit down and talk to him; the centaurs were a fascinating race and Harry had never fully appreciated them until the Battle of Hogwarts. Elliot had to drag him away from the room, promising him that they would be back.

The last stop was the other fae, and Harry was almost vibrating with impatience by the time they reached his room. Elliot told him that they shared a room, because the fae were sociable creatures and liked being near each other.

"His name is Frederick," Elliot said, smiling down at Harry. "He was injured by a manticore."

"I know," Harry said, "Rhys mentioned."

Elliot looked pensively at Harry, wondering what Rhys saw in his short human. There was something special about him, but he wasn't able to pinpoint it yet. Instead, he opened the door and walked through after Harry.

"Hello there," Frederick said, looking questioningly at Elliot when he saw Harry. "I don't think we've met."

"I'm Harry," Harry said, walking over and extending his left hand, having noticed that it was Frederick's right arm that was injured. Frederick smiled at the thought, and gladly shook Harry's hand. He looked surprised when he touched Harry, and glanced once more at Elliot.

"You've met a gold fae," he stated, raising an eyebrow at Harry, who had dropped his hand to his side. "But no gold fae I recognise."

"No, he's recently been turned," Elliot said shortly, conveying all that he had learnt from Harry to Frederick in that one sentence. Frederick's eyes widened and he looked at Harry with a new appreciation.

"Interesting that you've been so trusted," he observed, and Harry twitched, but stayed in place. "Why?" Harry didn't answer, his magic flaring slightly before he stilled.

The door suddenly opened and Rhys stood there, and he smiled widely when he saw Harry.

"Well met again, Harry. Hello, Fred, how are you doing?" he asked, walking over. "I see you've met our newest recruit."

"What are you playing at, my friend?" Frederick asked, looking piercingly at Rhys. "This boy is touched by a gold fae; not everyone is touched so softly by one."

"Trust that I know what I am doing," Rhys answered mysteriously, and turned around to Elliot. "I hear that you've introduced Harry to all our residents."

"It was my pleasure; he is a very interesting person," Elliot said, eyes smiling as he looked at Harry, who turned away, embarrassed. Rhys looked pensive, and exchanged a look with Frederick, who nodded. A smile stole over Rhys' face, and he moved over to stand next to Harry, putting his hand on his arm.

"I'm going to have to steal Harry's company, unfortunately," Rhys said. He watched as Harry's face brightened immensely. Elliot frowned at Rhys, but Rhys merely smiled cryptically before putting a hand on Harry's back and guiding him out of the room.

As soon as the door closed behind them, Harry bounced on his feet.

"Have you seen him at all?" he asked. His skin felt like it was buzzing, and Rhys could tell that Harry was impatient for any news.

"No, I can't, remember? He's blocked everyone out but you, it seems." Rhys picked up the pace, Harry almost jogging beside him. "He ate more food than usual, though."

"How do you know he's eaten it and not Ismay?"

Rhys tapped the wall in front of him in a very specific rhythm and it melted away to reveal a door. He opened it and allowed Harry to go before him before closing it behind him.

"It's a shortcut, I can tell you're impatient." Even in the dim light, Rhys could see that Harry was blushing. "In answer to your question, I provide a separate plate for her, and one with specific foods best for newly-turned fae in the other one. It would be instinctual for him to give Ismay the food I've provided for her, because the other food wouldn't be enough to help her grow."

"Did you know all this about fae before he came?" Harry asked. They had slowed down as they went down the stone stairs and darkness crept around them.

"I knew most things, but I had to appeal to Fred's help when I found him. Very generally, though. Until he met you, I don't think Fred had any suspicions. I'm well known around the injured creatures to quiz them about things I should know to best help them. I'm trying to compile a book."

They reached the bottom of the stairs, and Rhys put a finger to his lips. They proceeded in complete silence, guided by the faint blue light glowing above them until they arrived at the silver door. Rhys seemed to melt into the darkness, until Harry was unable to pinpoint him anymore. He stepped forward into Angel's thick magic, and almost before he had let go of his magic, the wards absorbed him and the door opened.

As soon as he stepped through, he caught sight of Ismay first. She was sitting on the grass making a daisy chain, and she looked up with a very shy smile when she caught sight of Harry. Angel seemed to materialise next to her, and though his eyes were lowered to the ground, Harry could see a very small smile on his face.

"Hi there," Harry whispered, both to Angel and to Ismay.

He felt Angel's magic reach out to his, and he gladly met it, letting his feelings about seeing Angel again come to the fore. He heard a quiet intake of breath from the fae, and the mind link between them from yesterday clicked into place. Ismay watched with fascinated eyes, and turned bright ones towards Harry.

"Daddy trusts you," she said simply. "He does that with me when he wants to speak to me properly."

 _Usually to make sure she's not endangering herself,_ he heard Angel's voice speak in his mind. He tried to pinpoint what was different and realised that the fae was almost teasing. Harry's smile grew wider.

"Do you often run into danger, Ismay?" he asked. She blushed bright red and turned to her father, who rumbled reassuringly. She looked back at Harry.

"I used to get Daddy into trouble when I wasn't good," she said very quietly. Angel let out a furious growl, his wings snapping out. He wrapped his arms around Ismay and trilled out a few gentle notes that had her nodding steadily. She seemed to understand the message and turned back to Harry with a deep breath.

"When the bad people thought I wasn't being good," she said bravely, burrowing back into her father's arms. Harry swallowed angrily, desperate to go and wreak havoc on Angel's captors.

"May I come closer?" he asked. "I don't want to crowd you, and I won't touch you at all."

He saw Angel take an instinctive step back, pulling Ismay off the ground and wrapping his wings around her. Harry felt the fae's magic bristle before it suddenly relaxed, spreading out in a calm wave.

 _Take a step forward_.

Harry took a step forward obediently.

 _Take another one_.

Harry did so, and kept taking a step forward according to Angel's instructions until he was within touching distance. Ismay was looking at him with wide eyes over her father's wing. He smiled at her and she smiled back tentatively.

"Your daddy wants to make sure that I won't hurt you," Harry said, moving exaggeratedly slowly until he was sitting down on the ground. He watched as Angel lowered Ismay back down to the ground as well until she was standing in front of Harry. Harry took a deep, shaky breath. The fact that Ismay was so close to him said an awful lot, and Harry recognised it for the test it was.

Ismay seemed to recognise the moment as well, because she looked up at her father. An instinctive noise bubbled up in her throat, and Harry watched as Angel answered it immediately with a quiet rumble in his chest. Ismay turned back to Harry and stepped right into his personal space. His heart in his mouth, Harry looked anxiously at the fae, who looked incredibly tense but made no move to stop his daughter.

"You can make a good daisy chain, right?" she asked Harry, who chuckled.

"Yes, of course I can. Me and my friends used to make them all the time in the summer," he answered, crossing his legs and making himself comfortable. Ismay looked at him for a long moment before following his example. He could see Angel hovering around them intently, ready to intervene at a moments' notice, but Harry decided to make no comment, instead letting his calming magic bleed out completely and surround the three of them.

"How many friends do you have?" Ismay asked curiously, picking a daisy off the ground and handing it to Harry, who picked another one and tied the two together. Watching in fascination, Ismay picked another one and handed it to Harry once more.

"I have quite a few, but I only met them when I was eleven," Harry said confidingly, lowering his voice. "My cousin was super bad to me when I was really small like you so I had no friends."

"People were bad to us as well, but Daddy protected me and made sure I was okay," she said, looking up at Angel, who had stopped moving around them and was standing behind Ismay.

"My cousin's favourite game was called Harry-hunting," Harry said, trying very hard not to react outwardly to Ismay's words, and making sure his magic stayed welcoming and calm. However, by the way Angel's eyes quickly went to his throat, where he was swallowing his anger, the fae had realised how her words had affected him.

"The bad people used to try and get Daddy's powers from him," she whispered. Harry looked up at Angel, who was looking away. Harry could feel the shame coming off him, and he felt for the mind link between them.

 _Don't hide,_ he whispered into Angel's mind, knowingly using the link to speak to him even though he had been asked not to yesterday. Angel turned around angrily, looking betrayed, but Harry glanced down at Ismay, who was steadily increasing her daisy pile. Angel subsided.

 _You talked to my mind,_ Angel murmured.

 _I'm sorry, but I didn't want to draw Ismay's attention to your distress. You should be able to have a moment to deal with it yourself. Ismay has been your priority, above looking after yourself. You needed a moment, and I didn't want her to worry._ Harry's conviction rang out in his magic, which wrapped itself tighter around the three of them in response, sending waves of comforting, Healing magic in Angel's direction.

The fae relaxed and sat down behind Ismay. Harry watched with interest as the fae's claws disappeared and he started playing with his daughter's hair. She turned her head around and shot a smile of such pure happiness at her father that Harry choked up, pressing the bridge of his nose briefly to try and stem his tears. He looked up and saw father and daughter looking at him knowingly. Ismay dropped the daisies she was holding and walked towards him. In a moment of what had to be massive bravery, she wrapped her arms around Harry's neck. Harry's arms wrapped around her automatically, one around her tiny waist and another holding the back of her head. He moved, going onto his knees, pulling the little girl close to his chest and running his hands through her hair. He felt wetness on his neck and knew that she had started crying. Harry bit his lip, looking towards Angel desperately. The fae took a huge breath and shuffled towards them. He stopped just a hair's breadth away from his daughter and Harry, but the sound of a muffled sob from his daughter had him moving. His wings spread out before coming around both Harry and Ismay, and his arms went around Harry's neck, covering Ismay's. Harry very slowly lowered his head onto Angel's shoulder, and knew that the fae felt the tears in Harry's own eyes.

 _You're okay now, I_ _promise_ _,_ Harry whispered furiously into Angel's mind, his arm around Ismay's waist moving to run up and down her back. "I won't let anything or anyone hurt you _ever_ if I can help it, I swear."

His magic surged around them in agreement, wrapping them in a bubble of such beautiful peace that he felt Angel relax against him for the first time ever. The darkness that surrounded them from Angel's wings added to the peace, and Harry's busy mind calmed for the first time in years.

"You're the nicest person ever, Harry," Ismay whispered against his neck.

"Apart from your daddy," he said.

"Daddy is the best person ever," she declared, pulling away into her father's arms. Angel withdrew and Harry mourned the loss, but watched as instead of moving away, all the fae did was cradle Ismay in his arms, still kneeling in front of Harry. He rocked her back and forth, humming snatches of a tune that was vaguely familiar to Harry until her eyes fluttered shut, exhausted from her small bout of crying.

Harry's eyes rose to meet Angel's. Neither of them wanted to acknowledge what they both knew, and instead Harry slowly let his hand rest on Angel's forearm before he moved even closer to place a kiss on Ismay's forehead.

"I don't know where all these feelings are coming from, but I've never felt so strongly about someone in my life," he said, refusing to look up at Angel. "In only a few days, you've turned my life around, and I don't know what to think, but all I know is that I don't ever want to stop helping you, and I'll do my best to make sure you're okay. Both of you."

A very soft hand went to Harry's chin and pushed it up. Harry's eyes met Angel's, who held the eye contact for the longest Harry had ever seen him do so.

 _Thank you_.

* * *

 _A/N:_ _Thank you for reading this chapter! Please let me know what you thought of it._


	4. Chapter 4

_A/N:_ _ **SerpensPrincess**_ _:) :) :)_

 _Sorry for this delay, I've been snowed under with work._

 _Disclaimer:_ _None of my work belongs to me, it is solely the property of the one and only J.K. Rowling and any other company which has the copyright of Harry Potter, including Warner Bros. Nothing here belongs to me; all the characters are J.K. Rowling's originally, though any new character not part of the Harry Potter series belongs to me._

* * *

 **Title:** I stand for freedom

 **Author:** hpjkrowling4ever

Chapter Four

Elliot could not help but be intrigued by Harry Potter. He was nothing like what he had expected the Saviour of the Wizarding World to be, yet everything he had wanted him to be. His father had often come to the sanctuary with stories of meeting the Boy-Who-Lived, amusing anecdotes about his general distaste for politicking and manipulation and pretty much everything the government was known for, but his unusual ability to see straight to the heart of the matter and expose it. What the effect of the exposure was, well, his dad has said that he understood why the Boy-Who-Lived had taken his two friends with him on his camping trip, because the boy had no ability to deal with the consequences of his actions.

Elliot saw this all in glorious technicolour in the sanctuary. His arrival had made ripples spread through the inhabitants of the sanctuary. All the creatures looked hard at the young man and guessed that the taint of the gold fae on his magic meant that he was very likely the Destined of the fae. Elliot trusted Rhys with all his being and knew that this fae must be in an absolutely shocking state for him to have sequestered him. The fact that Rhys had introduced Harry to the fae highlighted in vivid, neon yellow that Rhys believed that Harry was his Destined. In addition, Rhys' casual removal of Harry from the main ward that morning to bring him to see the gold fae, and Harry's reaction to that news, showed that Harry was receptive to the idea of being a Destined.

All these thoughts moved through his mind as he went about his daily tasks in the sanctuary, spending most of the morning helping the werewolves, and especially trying to get Raphael, the youngest werewolf, to open up. The other three werewolves were very protective of him, and Elliot was comforted to know that since two of them were in the same pack, they would probably offer aid to the boy. However, while he was still in deep emotional pain, Elliot knew that Rhys would not let Raphael out.

Just as he was getting some new bandages for the burnt werewolf, Harry materialised. Elliot could immediately see that he had been crying, and something in him clamoured to make him feel better. He softened his usually quite uptight stance and smiled in what he hoped was a fairly welcoming way.

"Hello," he said, gesturing Harry over. Harry seemed glad that he didn't mention his tear-streaked face but instead handed him a tray of food.

"Lunch," Elliot said, "I'm trying to get through to Raphael before he starves himself. He's been refusing most of the food that I'm brought to him, and it's worrying the other werewolves. And me," he added as an afterthought.

"He's the youngest werewolf, isn't he?" Harry asked.

"That's correct," Elliot replied, starting to walk towards the werewolves' room.

"He was kicked out of his house, wasn't he?" Harry asked, and Elliot glanced at him, surprised by his perceptiveness. Harry noticed and gave a wry smile. "I'm good at noticing that sort of thing."

"If you don't mind me asking, where did you become familiar with abuse?" Elliot asked, his mind struggling to grasp the idea that the famous young man next to him was familiar with scenarios that walked into the sanctuary.

"Here and there," Harry replied nonchalantly, and Elliot knew that he wouldn't get anything more from him.

They walked ahead in comfortable silence until they reached the werewolves' room, but Elliot realised that Harry's presence next to him had been detected because all the werewolves were awake and alert, watching Harry closely as he entered the room. He may be the Boy-Who-Lived, but none of the werewolves trusted him enough to lower their guard.

Harry ignored all of their stares and politely walked up to the werewolf in his forties, who was the temporary alpha of the werewolves while they were away from their pack. Harry half-bowed, showing clear knowledge of werewolf etiquette. Elliot's eyebrows rose to the top of his head, and he saw his surprise mirrored in the faces of the others.

"Whose pack are you part of, young man?" the oldest werewolf asked, glancing at the alpha.

"Was, sir. Alpha Remus Lupin. We lost him in the War," Harry's voice was choked, and Elliot could almost see the grief shrouding him. "His son is my godson, and like a son to me."

"He would have been a good alpha, had he had time to mature," the werewolf said, putting his fisted hand over his heart, offering his condolences. Harry nodded his head, accepting the condolences. Raphael was sitting up on his bed and staring at Harry in fascination. It was the most interest that Elliot had seen the young boy display since his arrival.

"You're Harry _Potter_ ," the boy whispered with a reverential note to his voice. Elliot saw Harry's shoulders tense up almost imperceptibly, but when he turned to Raphael, he was smiling and looked relaxed.

"What gave me away?" he asked.

"Your eyes, of course," Raphael said scornfully. "The eyes and glasses. You've got the brightest green eyes."

Elliot could tell that the observation was unexpected for Harry but welcome; his shoulders relaxed and he took a tentative step towards Raphael. Elliot saw the other werewolves tense, but one look from the alpha stopped them from doing anything. He could feel the tension building in the room.

"Everyone says they look like my mum's eyes," Harry said.

"Your mum's dead, isn't she?" Elliot winced at the rather insensitive question and fought his instincts to defend Harry. He could see the other werewolves looking uncomfortable.

"That she is. So's my dad. My alpha is dead. My godfather was killed by Bellatrix Lestrange when I was fifteen. My mentor was killed. My aunt and uncle don't want me near them. Any more questions?" Harry asked sharply. Raphael had the grace to look ashamed of his question.

"Sorry. It's just…I wanted to check," Raphael whispered, curling in on himself. Harry took another step forward.

"Of course you wanted to check, but that's no reason to be rude," Harry replied. "Now, will you eat the food Elliot's bringing to you?"

"I don't really want to," Raphael murmured. Elliot sighed.

"Why ever not?" Harry asked, challenging the boy. Elliot raised his eyebrows and could see the alpha doing the same.

"It's all too strong. I don't know _how_ to control all these smells coming at me," Raphael answered, lifting his head up and looking at Harry defiantly. Harry turned to the werewolves. The alpha moved off his bed and walked over to Raphael's until he was standing next to him.

"If it all took to get you talking was Harry Potter, we would have sorted this out a lot faster," he said.

"He's a _celebrity_ ," Raphael said. "How many times in my life am I going to get to talk to him?" he asked. Harry chuckled despite himself. "I didn't want to pass _that_ up."

"Thank you," the alpha said, a wry smile on his face. He extended his hand. "I'm Philip."

"As we've all established, I'm Harry," Harry replied, shaking his hand. "Look after yourself," he said mock-sternly to Raphael, who looked mildly sheepish. Elliot handed the food to Philip and bowed himself out. Harry followed. Once they got out, Elliot let out a breath and glanced at Harry in amazement.

"You're good at this," he said. Harry's cheeks went slightly pink.

"I volunteered at Phoenix Orphanage for a while. I love working with children, especially if they've been through difficulties. Something about them appeals to me," he answered.

"Is that why Rhys has you working with the gold fae?" Elliot asked, looking askance at Harry, who simply sighed at Elliot's singlemindedness determination to get more information out of Harry about the fae.

"I'm not sure." Elliot could see Harry gearing himself up for a question. Instead of pushing him, all Elliot did was lead them to the coffee room and started boiling the kettle. He was reaching up into one of the top cupboards for the nicer coffee that he hid there when Harry spoke.

"How do you know if you're a Destined?" he asked. "Specifically?"

Elliot almost dropped the coffee. He hadn't expected this question to come so soon.

"Do you think you're the Destined of the gold fae?" he asked.

"I just…I feel safe with him. But also useful. I don't know. It's so confusing." Harry looked lost and ran a hand through his hair. "Just. I feel this overwhelming urge to care for him, and his –" Harry cut himself off, looking guilty.

"His child?" Elliot asked gently, as he put the ground coffee beans into a coffee pot next to the kettle. Harry shot him a guilty look. "It's okay. When you told me that he had been captive, I made the assumption myself. The fact that he's still in his full form…it means he has someth- _one_ to protect." The kettle whistled, and Elliot poured the water into the coffee pot.

"Yeah," Harry murmured. "She's called Ismay."

Elliot took a long look at Harry and the way he was smiling absently. At that moment, it was achingly obvious to the fae that Harry was indeed a Destined.

"It's a beautiful name," Elliot whispered, standing at Harry's shoulder. He knew that it was important to acknowledge the beauty of a fae's child to the parent, and since Harry was the fae's Destined, and would be Ismay's parent, the same applied rule to him.

"She's beautiful," Harry said. His hands clenched and unclenched at his sides. "Rhys said that two Destined don't usually realise that they are Destined."

"In normal circumstances, that's correct," Elliot said, moving away to strain the coffee and pour it out. "However, in these circumstances, it's important for you both to be aware of the bond that's forming. It means that the gold fae will not be caught unawares and could easily refuse the bond." He looked carefully at Harry when he said that and felt a small twinge of relief despite himself when he saw the look of fear cross Harry's face.

"I'm worried that I'm feeling all this too quickly," Harry admitted. "I've only seen him twice."

"There's no timeframe for a Destined bond," Elliot said, handing Harry a coffee cup. He moved to one of the sofas in the room. "You've come out of a great ordeal, and so has your gold fae. It doesn't mean that your whole relationship is sorted; obviously, you've a long way to go. It means that you've got a very special, almost sacred, bond between you and it will help you. It also means that you're one step closer to finding your other Destined."

Harry put his coffee down on the table and ran his hands through his hair again.

"And there are always three?"

"With a gold fae, most definitely. The way that you're so quickly becoming aware of your Destined bond with him means that he's trying to seek stability for himself and for his daughter as quickly as possible. I'm sure Rhys mentioned to you that there comes a point when your magic allows you to make a choice." Elliot looked at Harry, who nodded, his head in his hands. "The fact that you're aware of your bond forming is giving you time to refuse and pull away before this moment. The fact that you don't mind it means that you'll probably accept, and I wouldn't give it too long. Then it won't take too long for you both to find your second Destined. It just depends on how ready he is to meet new people."

Harry lifted his head up and shook himself. Elliot could almost see him storing everything in the back of his mind for perusal later.

"Right. Thanks." Harry took a deep breath. "How does everything work on a day-to-day basis here? Rhys gave me an outline, but recommended that you talk to me further about what I might need to do."

Elliot accepted the change of subject for what itwas, and launched into an explanation of how the sanctuary was run.

* * *

Harry spent the rest of the day solidly not thinking about what Elliot had talked about. He was assigned to work with the werewolves for the rest of the day and enjoyed it immensely. Raphael, now that the alpha had had a good conversation with him, turned out to have a bit of a mischievous streak and kept them all laughing with funny stories. There were moments where he faded a bit, remembering the life that he had been forcibly dislodged from, but with the help of the other werewolves there, and Harry's presence, he was pulled out of his mood before it got too low.

It was only that evening when he took the Floo to Ron and Hermione's house that he started to think through what Elliot was saying. There, in the comforting presence of his closest friends, he explained what Elliot had told him.

"Harry, no offense mate, but it sounds pretty irrevocable," Ron observed, rubbing his bottle of beer between his hands.

"I just – I'm worried that it's all happening too quickly," Harry whispered, looking down at his own bottle. Hermione was curled up on the sofa beside him, her feet (which were always cold) under his legs and her hands wrapped around a mug of herbal tea. She extended a hand to touch Harry's shoulder and squeezed.

"There's no time limit to discovering you love someone, Harry," Hermione said. In that moment, she felt such deep sympathy for her friend whose parents would never get the opportunity to be here for his crisis. "Just because Ron and I were friends before getting together doesn't mean that it has to be the same for you. And you're a Destined, Harry. Having magic at work in any relationship is special, and you've got to admit that your relationship with your fae has been formed under some very extraordinary circumstances."

Harry nodded reluctantly. Ron sighed and leant forward in his chair.

"Harry, the fact that you're overthinking this on a whole new level shows how careful you are about it. Also, think for a second. Your fae has a probably quite traumatised little girl there with him, and he needs to recover himself. You're both Destined. If it's obvious to you, it's glaringly obvious to everyone else. That means that he's going to have to trust you with his daughter so that he can heal himself."

"But _that's_ what I'm worried about, Ron!" Harry exclaimed, standing up and running his hand through his hand in agitation. He took a shaky breath, taking off his glasses and rubbing them on his shirt. Well accustomed to Harry's nervous gestures, his friends remained silent, knowing that he had a lot to get off his chest. "I mean, what happens if I don't _like_ who he is as a human? He's almost nonverbal as a full fae."

"Okay, that's a sensible worry, Harry. Now, sit down," Hermione ordered, leaning over and tugging at his shirt sleeve. "My feet are getting cold."

Harry gave a half-hearted chuckle but obeyed his friend. There was a beat of silence while they all mulled over Harry's admission before Ron spoke.

"You need to work out a plan of action with him, Harry. It sounds like all Rhys has been doing is letting him recover at his own pace, but now you need answers and you can't let your bond keep forming while you've got that huge worry hanging over you."

"Good advice, Ron," Hermione said, nodding. She uncurled herself and moved so that she could wrap an arm around Harry's shoulders. She put her feet under a sofa cushion instead and let Harry curl into her. She started running a hand through his hair, and Ron gave her a soft smile. "You've got to talk to him. It's obvious that he won't let his daughter out of his sight, so you're going to have to get him to turn in front of you with her there."

Harry looked quite desperate for a long moment before steeling himself. Hermione and Ron could visibly see him running through his plan of action and relaxing.

"Thanks, guys," he said, looking gratefully at them.

"What we're here for, mate," Ron said, leaning back thankfully. "Always to help you clean up your messes."

"Or make them worse," Hermione said, giving the pile of dirty dishes that Ron and Harry had let accumulate in the course of the evening.

Ron gave a long-suffering sigh.

"Game of chess first?" he asked, looking pleadingly at Hermione, who caved almost immediately when Harry did the same.

"If you must."

* * *

 _A/N:_ _Everything is having a great time kicking off in my life, but I really like this fic so I'm going at it steadily. Longer chapters will come when my life gets back on track._


	5. Chapter 5

_A/N:_ _ **Valerie Chavous**_ _thank you so much for being the first to review my last chapter :). And thank you to all the others who reviewed!_

 _I apologise again for the delay…my life is still quite hectic._

 _Disclaimer:_ _None of my work belongs to me, it is solely the property of the one and only J.K. Rowling and any other company which has the copyright of Harry Potter, including Warner Bros. Nothing here belongs to me; all the characters are J.K. Rowling's originally, though any new character not part of the Harry Potter series belongs to me._

* * *

 **Title:** I stand for freedom

 **Author:** hpjkrowling4ever

Chapter Five

Armed with his new resolution to talk to Angel, Harry turned up early the next day. In fact, he was so early that he didn't see anyone else when he entered, nor as he headed towards the last place Rhys had brought him to see Angel. He hoped that it wasn't necessary to have Rhys with him to bring him to see Angel, because this was something he didn't want Rhys there for – though it was probably the sensible choice.

Harry was lucky; it seemed like once you knew where it was, it was easy to get to the corridor which housed the entrance to Angel's hideout. He felt like a naughty schoolboy again, escaping the Gryffindor dorms after curfew, and couldn't help but hide a chuckle. He stared at the wall for a long time, trying to pull up the memory of Rhys' hand tapping out the specific rhythm to make it part for him. There was a long pause after Harry tapped it out, and he chewed his lip, hoping that he was right. The wall melted away to reveal the same staircase downwards to Angel's hideout, and Harry sighed in relief.

Once again, he proceeded downwards in complete silence, letting the blue lights over him guide him towards the silver door. This time, it seemed to sense him without him putting in any effort, and it opened for him almost immediately. Glancing around him, Harry entered.

Angel was sitting on the grass. However, this time, Ismay was nowhere to be seen, and Harry frowned in confusion. Angel tilted his head at the expression on Harry's face, seemed to decipher it, and waved his hand to his left, where Harry could see the air shimmering slightly.

 _She's asleep. I felt you arrive – you feel…serious_.

Angel stood up, his whole body language screaming discomfort. Harry forced himself to relax completely, and sit down on the grass so as to seem like less of a threat for the fae. He saw Angel relax fractionally, but the fae remained standing uncertainly.

"I want to talk to you about something quite important," Harry said. "But I'm not going to do it unless you want me to."

Angel frowned, fiddled with his fingers, took a deep breath and sat down opposite Harry, but just out of his reach. Harry accepted the peace offering for what it was and steeled himself to start.

"I've been learning a lot about fae since I met you," he said. "I don't know how much you actually know about them, since your transformation seems…to have caused problems," Harry said succinctly. Angel shot him a rather incredulous look, then looked nervous for doing so. Harry chuckled and shuffled a bit closer, extending his hand. Angel looked at it dubiously for a few moments, then he took it. Harry squeezed it gently and smiled reassuringly.

"Do you know about Destined?" he asked. Angel aborted a move to flinch back, his hand tensing impossibly in Harry's, and there was a long pause between them.

 _Yes_ , Angel replied. There was an underlying message to that, but Harry decided not to probe further.

"And I assume you've realised, like me, that we are probably Destined?" Harry asked bluntly. This time, Angel did pull back his hand and stand up, pacing around in circles, his wings stretched out and tense. He looked like he was ready to fly off. Harry looked towards where he knew Ismay was and saw that the protections around her had been unconsciously tightened: he couldn't even see a ripple of magic.

"Angel – Angel – don't. I'm not going to hurt you," Harry said, still sitting on the ground even though his whole body wanted him to stand up and face the agitated fae. "I'm not going to reject you," he whispered into the air, and Angel stopped dead in his tracks. A ripple went up his feathers, and he slowly turned to face Harry, his eyes flicking up to Harry's face uncertainly.

"I don't want to reject you, Angel. I've formed a connection with you and Ismay, one I could only ever have dreamed of in the past. A Destined bond sounds incredible, and very special. I'm fond of Ismay, and I'm fond of you." Harry took a deep, steadying breath. "There's only one problem." Angel tensed again. "I don't know _who_ you are, Angel." Angel's wings ruffled in agitation. "I want you to turn back, Angel. I _need_ you to turn back."

Angel looked completely shell-shocked. Everything about him screamed discomfort. Harry knew that it was only because of his knowledge and tentative trust in him that Angel wasn't running away.

 _You don't want to know who I am,_ Angel replied tersely. Harry could feel his mind pulling away, and he grasped frantically at their connection.

"That's where you're wrong!" Harry did stand up now, slowly so that he didn't jar Angel, but the fae took a few skittering steps back anyway. Harry held up his hands. "I _want_ to know you, _all_ of you. I want to help you heal. And I want to help Ismay heal, Angel. She needs to come out of here as well, just like you do. I _promise_ you that I will not reject you as soon as I see you. I _swear_."

There was a deep silence between them, and then Harry heard the door behind him open.

 _Leave,_ Angel declared. _I'll let you know if you can return._ Then, for the first time since initiating the mental bond, Angel snapped it.

Harry felt as if the air had left his body. He went hot, then freezing cold, and he distantly saw goosebumps rise along his bare arms. There was almost a sound to the bond snapping, and Harry wondered faintly if a gunshot had gone off. He wavered on his feet for a long moment, before taking a huge, shuddering breath and slowly backing out of Angel's sanctuary. The fae had turned away, and Harry thought he saw tears sliding down his cheeks before the door slammed shut.

Harry felt the protections around the door pushing him away, repelling him where they had once welcomed him, and he squeezed the bridge of his nose to desperately ward off tears. It was in vain, though. As soon as he left the circle of the fae's protective wards, he slid down the wall, tears running silently down his cheeks.

He didn't know how long passed until Rhys appeared. The manager took one look at him and silently helped him up, putting his arm around Harry's waist and throwing Harry's arm around his shoulders and half-dragged, half-carried him to his office. There, he sat Harry down on his sofa, wrapped in a woollen throw and somehow a mug of hot chocolate appeared in his hands, which were still shaking. He put the mug on the coffee table and put his head in his hands. Rhys perched himself on the coffee table in front of Harry.

"What happened?" Rhys asked, looking long and hard at Harry.

"I – I – I could – I could feel the bond – it was between – it was growing and – and I needed – _we_ – Ismay and I don't know –" Harry's words were incoherent, and he couldn't form any sentence in his head besides _I fucked up_.

"You asked him to change back," Rhys filled in the gaps. He chuckled. "Well done."

Harry's head shot up and he glared at Rhys from his red-rimmed eyes.

"Don't worry," Rhys said. "I thought it was way worse than that, Harry," he said gently, putting his hand on Harry's thigh and rubbing calming circles on it. "He's severely traumatised, and you just wrenched open the rather crude bandaging that we had given him in the form of his own space – if you'll excuse my analogy. You want him to heal better, and so you told him so. And more than that, you brought Ismay into the picture. His daughter _will_ need healing, there's absolutely no doubt about that." Rhys smiled comfortingly. "Don't take it personally. He hasn't rejected your bonding; I can still feel it. He needs time, and trust me, this will hurt him to. His reactions aren't sensible ones, Harry, and he needs to feel like he's got the poweri in a situation."

"I just – I can't even – it _hurts_ , Rhys." Harry took a deep, gasping breath. "I've never hurt this much in my life."

Rhys sat down next to Harry on the sofa and pulled the young man into his arms. Harry went uncomplainingly, becoming limp next to the man, who was exuding such a sense of comfort and security that some distant part of Harry's mind wondered if this is what being held by a relative felt like.

"Think about it, Harry. When you were recovering from the War, none of your reflex reactions would have been sane, normal ones. You were probably hyper aware of everything around you. Look at how you've moved on since then. Now think about how your fae is going to react when you've threatened his safety. You're only trying to help, and he needs to realise that. I was wondering how I was going to get him to abandon his fae form; I was seriously worried. You've taken the first step, and that's really important."

Harry said nothing, but he could feel himself calming down.

"How – how will I know if he wants to speak to me again?" he asked. Rhys squeezed his shoulder.

"He'll let you know, don't worry. I'm just not sure how," Rhys answered, trying to ignore the feeling of dread deep in his chest.

* * *

Harry holed himself up in Rhys' office for another hour before he felt ready enough to come out of it. Rhys had kindly given him a book to read about fae and gone off to take care of some other matters. Harry had read a few chapters of it and they he decided to go and find Elliot. If anyone could give him something to do, it was the other fae.

Elliot happened to be organising the medicine in the storage room when Harry finally found him. When he noticed Harry, he gave a soft half-smile, which Harry figured was as good as a full one. Harry gave him a rather weak one in return.

"Would you like to help me?" Elliot asked as he opened another cardboard box in front of him. He picked up one of the many bottles inside the box and read the label.

"What are you doing?" Harry asked.

"We just got a shipment of new medications, potions and bandages. Rhys likes to use a mixture of Muggle and magical medicine, so we have to organise the shelves really well. It's a job I like to do on one of the quieter days here."

Harry walked into the small room and was immediately hit by the smell of various familiar potions, medicines and even some natural remedies.

"What can I do to help?" he asked, moving to stand next to Elliot. Elliot paused for a second and levitated about five of the many cardboard boxes on the floor.

"This one's for bandages. That cupboard over there," Elliot pointed to another cupboard. "It's got various different types of bandages, like leg ones, arm ones, hand ones, wing ones, even ones we put on tails and other types. Magical bandages are significantly more specific than Muggle ones, because some bandages can be infused with potions – like leg ones can, but wing ones can't. Wing injuries take a lot longer to heal," Elliot's face darkened before he shook himself out of it. "So, find out where these boxes of bandages fit in the cupboard, if that's okay with you."

Harry thought that the repetitive, fairly simple task would be quite comforting.

"Sure," he said, and Elliot gently let the boxes alight by the cupboard. Harry opened the nearest one to him, opened the cupboard and stared at it for a moment, getting his bearings. Harry then started examining the box, levitating it so that it hovered next to him and he could just pick out bandages.

"My father would like to meet you," Elliot said suddenly into the comfortable silence.

"He would?" Harry asked, surprised. His mind was much calmer, and he didn't stop sorting out the bandages.

"He's interested in the way you've interacted with the various people here, including the gold fae," Elliot said easily, picking up another box and opening it. He didn't appear to notice that Harry had frozen at the mention of Angel.

"It might be a bit hard to talk to him about the gold fae," Harry said awkwardly.

"I think he'd also like to meet you because you're Harry Potter and he's only really seen you from a distance at the Ministry when discussing magical creature rights," Elliot replied. He was frowning at a bottle in his hand and carefully not looking at Harry.

"I vaguely remember him. I met a lot of people in the years after the War," Harry excused. He started organising the bandages again.

"Not many people strike my father as particularly impressive, but he was impressed by you, especially by what he's heard me say." Elliot said.

"I didn't realise I was so interesting," Harry mumbled. It was a familiar refrain of his, one that Ron and Hermione always rolled their eyes at when he said.

"Not many wizards walk into somewhere like this, form a bond with a gold fae and are willing to care for all the other magical creatures here without prejudice. Furthermore, you were part of a werewolf pack. That's quite something."

"It was quite an informal pack," Harry said quietly, remembering Remus. "He always said that he never intended to create one."

"It was a pack all the same and losing it must have been hard on you."

"I have a new pack now," Harry said, thinking of his closest friends. "Life goes on."

"That's what you've got to keep telling yourself," Elliot said, finally turning to look at Harry. "Your bond with your gold fae isn't broken; I can feel it in the air still. So, whatever you think you've done, I'm sure you haven't."

Harry stopped and stared at Elliot.

"How did you guess that something was up?" Elliot rolled his eyes at Harry's question.

"You're ridiculous, you know that. You're like a wet tissue; you're so easy to read. Look at yourself. You're the most upset I've seen you in a while, you practically reek of it." What Elliot didn't tell Harry is that as soon as he had seen him, he'd been torn between wanting to hunt down whatever had hurt Harry and pulling the shorter man into his arms and never letting him go. "You keep avoiding talking about your gold fae. Obviously you think you've done something that you haven't done."

"I was a jerk," Harry said mulishly, crossing his arms. Elliot stepped forwards and looked down at him.

"Don't be an idiot. He's obviously severely traumatised; you can't blame yourself when you don't know how he would have reacted normally to whatever insult you think you gave him."

"He kicked me out!" Harry cried out. He almost wanted to stamp his foot, but successfully restrained himself.

"It wasn't going to be all sunshine and roses, Harry!" Elliot said, secretly delighted that he was getting a rise out of him. It was important that Harry vented himself. "You can't predict reactions like that, and you clearly destabilised him enough that he _needed_ that space. He never shattered your nascent bond."

Harry breathed out exaggeratedly and shook himself.

"I told him that I wanted him to turn back and that Ismay needed help."

"Oh, Harry –" Elliot reached out to the young man, and when he found Harry unresisting, pulled him into his arms, hugging him tightly. He perched his head on top of Harry's and resisted the urge to bring out his wings. "You've done exactly what you needed to do for him, and you're probably the only person in the world apart from Ismay who can do that for him at the moment, bar Ismay, and she's never going to push her primary source of comfort. Look at me," he said, and Harry's green eyes met his. He gave Harry a genuine smile and saw one blossom on Harry's face almost reluctantly. He chuckled. "He _will_ come around, and it won't take him long. You just need to give him the space he needs. Think of it as an argument."

"Arguments suck," Harry said tersely, but his words had lost their edge.

Elliot laughed and let go of Harry, knowing that the moment between them was over and it was time to go back to his task of sorting out bottles. Harry turned back to his bandages, and the two of them worked side by side for the rest of the morning.

* * *

It was about tea time, after Harry had moved up to the wards and was talking to the Veela as he played chess with one of the goblins, when Rhys rushed into the communal area looking absolutely frantic. Everyone stopped what they were doing and stood up if they were sitting.

"Harry! Harry!" Rhys gasped out, looking like he couldn't believe what he was about to say. "Harry, you've got to come."

Harry felt like a bucket of ice had been thrown on him. There was only one creature right now who could make Rhys look so frantic, and that was probably Angel. He raced out of the room with Rhys, bowling past a confused looking Elliot, down the secret passage until they reached Angel's door.

Harry immediately realised what was wrong; the door was wide open, and the protections were a lot laxer. His limbs felt frozen.

"What's happened?" he asked Rhys, who simply shook his head and gestured for him to go inside. Harry, filled with a sense of dreadful foreboding, made his way into the clearing. He heard Rhys walk in behind him, and the simple fact that the other man could enter made him feel even worse about the situation.

Suddenly, he felt, rather than saw, Ismay throw herself at him, and a knot loosened in his chest. Angel would never have left without Ismay. He caught her and picked her up effortlessly. She looked distraught, and tears were pouring silently down her face. He pulled out a handkerchief from his pocket and wiped at her face, rocking back and forth in an effort to calm her. She took great, gasping breaths and fisted her hand in Harry's top.

"What's up, Issy?" he asked gently. "What's happened to your daddy?"

She shook her head wildly and pointed to a place further into the room. Harry took a step forward and he saw a barrier shimmer in the air. An intake of breath behind him meant that Rhys had seen it as well. He didn't glance back and kept walking towards it. As he was only a few steps from the start of the barrier, he saw it shimmer once again before shattering.

Harry heard Rhys murmur an expletive behind him and barely held himself back from saying one as well. Instead, he pulled Ismay closer to him, holding her head to his neck to shield her, and collapsed next to the bruised, battered and beaten body lying immobile on the ground.

He extended a shaking hand towards the very human-looking person there and shook his head in disbelief.

"I think – I think, Rhys, that we've found Draco Malfoy."

* * *

 _A/N:_ _I hope this tides you over until the next chapter!_


	6. Chapter 6

_A/N: __**SerpensPrincess**_ _you keep me going! RL is still extremely busy, quite stressful, so updates won't be regular or frequent at least until September. Sorry about that, but can't be helped. Thanks for sticking with me!_

 _Disclaimer:_ _None of my work belongs to me, it is solely the property of the one and only J.K. Rowling and any other company which has the copyright of Harry Potter, including Warner Bros. Nothing here belongs to me; all the characters are J.K. Rowling's originally, though any new character not part of the Harry Potter series belongs to me._

* * *

 **Title:** I stand for freedom

 **Author:** hpjkrowling4ever

Chapter Six

Rhys and Harry stared at the immobile body of Draco Malfoy for a long time before one of them moved. Harry's hold on Ismay's head didn't waver as he stood up, and he rocked back and forth, murmuring softly to her. Her sobs trailed off and she soon fell into an exhausted and unwilling sleep. Once he was sure that she was asleep, Harry turned to Rhys.

"Get Elliot," Harry ordered. He abruptly realised that he was ordering his employer around. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean –"

"No, not at all. The situation rather calls for it, don't you think?" Rhys interrupted, running an absent hand through his hair and then coughing uncomfortably. "Elliot?"

"His father will be able to help if we need it. He's medically capable as well. I don't know if there's any protocol here." Harry kept his voice low and calm, not wanting to disturb Ismay's sleep. "Merlin, Draco Malfoy. What a mess."

"I'll say," Rhys whispered. He shook himself and nodded brusquely. "I'll be back in a second. Wait here."

With that, Rhys stumbled out of the room, more disturbed than Harry had ever seen him. Harry looked back down at Draco Malfoy's body.

"Merlin, Angel. Malfoy. _Draco_. Bloody hell. What in the world do I do with this?" he asked himself. Ismay gave a whimper into his shoulder, and Harry ran a hand through her pale hair. She twisted in his arms, but Harry had good reflexes and held on tight to her. He hoped that Elliot knew what to do. He trusted Elliot and believed that the other fae would handle the situation well. "I promised not to reject you when I saw you. I don't know what happened – Merlin, I'm sure it was horrific – I – I'll do my best. That's all I can promise you, Malfoy. I know who you were. You're not the same if Angel is part of you. Merlin."

Ismay whimpered again and opened her eyes. They fell on Malfoy's prone body and she burst into tears again, twisting around so that her hands fisted in Harry's shirt and she cried into his shoulder.

"Issy," Harry murmured into her hair. "Issy, sweetheart," he put his hand on top of her head and stroked down until her sobs calmed.

"Daddy," she whispered, her voice raw.

"It's still your daddy, Issy. It's what he looked like before, right?" Harry asked, rubbing her back. She nodded against his shoulder.

"He hurts, like before," she said, her voice muffled from Harry's shirt.

"Yeah? Did bad men hurt him?" he asked, rocking from side to side.

Ismay nodded.

"Looks better."

"He looks better than he did?" Harry asked. He looked dubiously at Malfoy's blue, battered body. Merlin, he must have been a wreck if this was Ismay's definition of a healthy Draco.

Ismay nodded again and brought her thumb to her mouth. Harry kissed the side of her head and continued rocking back and forth.

"Hey, Issy?" he asked. Ismay looked up at him hesitantly. "Do you remember the man who brought you here?"

"Daddy kept me safe," Ismay replied.

"Yeah? I'm sure he did," Harry remembered Angel's fierce love of his daughter. "Well, two men are going to come here soon. They're my friends. You know what friends are?"

Ismay shook her head, and Harry's heart broke. He kept a tight rein on his emotions, though, not wanting to fall apart in front of this fragile little girl.

"Your daddy is your family. You know that?" Harry asked. Ismay thought deeply about this.

"I look like Daddy," she stated.

"Yeah, that's right, Issy, good girl. You and your daddy look alike." Ismay gave Harry a small smile. "I don't look like you, right?" Ismay shook her head. "But you like me, yeah?" Ismay nodded very quickly. "That's a friend. Someone you like who isn't family. And they help you, right, like I'm helping you right now." Ismay paused and nodded again. "And these two men coming, they're my friends. They're going to help you and your daddy."

"Make him better?" she asked. She turned to look back at Malfoy, but Harry stopped her.

"Yes, exactly, sweetheart." Harry rubbed her back again. "You're doing so well, being so brave right now." Ismay smiled again and buried her head in Harry's shoulder, embarrassed. Harry thought of the children he'd met since the war ended and how they drank up all the praise given to them; here was a child who seemed not to know what to do when she was praised. It made him want to set the world on fire for her.

Suddenly, he heard movement behind him and slowly turned around. He lowered Ismay to the ground but kept a tight hold of her hand. She wrapped her arms around his leg and hid behind it, looking like she was unlikely to move any time soon. Harry squeezed her shoulder comfortingly. He saw the naked shock on Elliot's face as he took in the situation, and then watched as the fae schooled his face to appear welcoming and calming. Slowly, carefully, he made his way towards Ismay and Harry. With every step towards them, Ismay whimpered and tried to hide further. Harry put up a hand to stop Elliot's advance and crouched next to Ismay, putting his arm around her shoulder. She curled into him trustingly.

"He won't hurt you, Issy, remember? He's here to help."

"Big. Hurt," Ismay whispered in that childish voice which meant that they could all hear her. He saw the stricken look on Rhys and Elliot's faces as they, like Harry, realised that Elliot reminded her of her father's tormentors. Harry's brain worked to try and find a solution and then it hit him. He hoped that Elliot would forgive him for what was probably a massive breach of fae etiquette.

"Hey, Issy," Harry said, catching her attention. "The big man, he's like your daddy. He knows how to help because he's magic and safe like your daddy is." Ismay looked at Elliot with a bit less trepidation.

Harry saw the moment when Elliot caught on. He noticed a look of resignation pass his face, and he turned back to Rhys, who had frozen completely near the doorway. He nodded encouragingly at Elliot, who raised an eyebrow at Harry. Harry gave what he hoped was an apologetic smile. Elliot took a deep breath and gave Ismay a small smile. Slowly, the air began to shimmer around him. His hair untied itself and streaks of violet appeared amongst the black. His ears lengthened. Then, in a display of masterful control, his wings unfurled behind him, lengthening until they were fully displayed. They were much wider than Angel's wings had been – something that Harry hadn't thought possible. However, unlike Angel's wings, they appeared more threatening. His wings weren't naturally soft; the mix of black and violet feathers looked sharp, and there was a long claw at the end of each wing. Harry knew that Elliot was an Offensive fae, but seeing it was something else.

Ismay wasn't scared away by the magnificent wings. In fact, she relaxed completely against Harry, who gave Elliot a wide smile. The other fae took this as permission to walk forwards and knelt down when he reached Harry and Ismay. She buried her head in Harry's shoulder, but one of her eyes was open and staring at Elliot. He gave her an encouraging smile.

"You must be Ismay," Elliot say. "I'm Elliot, but all my brothers and sisters call me Ellie."

"Ellie," Ismay tried, and nodded. She reached out her hand and Elliot caught it. "Pretty wings," she said.

"They're good at protecting people," Elliot said. "I'm here to protect you and your daddy." He glanced at Harry. "And Harry."

Ismay smiled.

"Can I touch?" she asked, stepping away from Harry, but keeping her hand on his knee. Elliot curved a wing towards her, and Harry watched in wonder as the sharp feathers melted into something soft and fluffy as soon as Ismay's little hand touched them. Harry watched Elliot's face melt like his feathers into something so tender that it was almost too much for Harry to look at. Elliot's hand went to one of Ismay's shoulders at the same time as Harry's went to the other. Both of them smiled gently at each other and then at Ismay, who'd buried her hand in Elliot's feathers.

"Can I help your daddy?" Elliot asked. Ismay nodded jerkily and turned back to Harry for comfort. He reacted immediately and picked her up, wrapping his arms tightly around her. Elliot stood up and moved to Malfoy. He knelt beside the other man and picked him up ever so gently, cradling him in his arms. His wings automatically curved around to shield Malfoy from view, and he started walking out of Angel's sanctuary. Harry followed him, Ismay held securely in his arms. Rhys hadn't moved from the doorway and nodded approvingly at both of them as they walked out.

"Put them in a secure ward, Elliot, Harry," he ordered, before closing the door behind them. Harry couldn't help but shiver and hold on to Ismay even more tightly.

* * *

Once they had placed Malfoy and Ismay in a secure ward, spells buzzing around the room, Elliot made the executive decision to call his father. The situation was completely out of his hands, and an injured gold fae was such a violation of fae culture that Elliot needed his father to help. While Elliot was calling his father, Rhys started attending to Malfoy's wounds.

"His fae form healed a lot of the severe injuries he had," Rhys stated, his voice devoid of emotion. His magic had conjured red lights over the areas of Malfoy's body that were injured, and Rhys could tell that a lot of the injuries were the aftermath of more serious ones. The lights turned green as he applied either salves or spelled potions onto them, signalling that he had attended to those injuries. Harry had exiled himself to the chair near the bed so as not to be in Rhys' way. He held a now dozing Ismay in his arms and was watching Rhys work.

"Makes sense why he was in it. Merlin, Rhys, he must have gone through the most horrific torture to end up like this _after_ the healing he went through." Harry shuddered.

"If I find out that some of the Death Eaters who did this to him are still out there, I will not hesitate to track them down myself and injure them, Harry. These are some of the worst, most traumatic injuries I have seen. Not to say what mental scars he has." Rhys glanced significantly at Ismay, reminding both of them of the sexual abuse that Malfoy had endured. "Thank you for doing this. He must have deep feelings for you to have induced the change in him," Rhys said, looking piercingly at Harry, who squirmed. "Your bond is a powerful one, Harry. Don't let whatever feelings you originally had for Draco Malfoy cloud the true feelings that are already between you."

"How did you guess?" Harry asked. He knew that he was blushing. Rhys hummed and turned back to Malfoy's chest, where he was applying some sort of absorbent salve.

"It's no secret that the Malfoys were affiliated with the Dark. As Harry Potter, you must have faced a great deal of abuse from this particular Malfoy at school. You're the same age, after all. You both come from vastly different backgrounds. It's not hard to guess that you probably didn't get on, and subconsciously, Draco's fae form knew that there was history between you. That's why he asked you to leave. But somewhere, Harry," Rhys turned back to Harry and looked at him very seriously. "Somewhere his fae knew that Draco would trust you enough not to judge his present because of his past. Don't prove him wrong."

Harry was about to reply when the door edged open. Elliot entered, followed by a taller, thinner man who was undoubtedly related to him. Their hair was the same shade of black, and they had the same facial features, though his eyes were the palest blue where Elliot's were violet. Elliot's build did not come from his father, but the resemblance was in the way they both held themselves: tall, confident and authoritative, exuding a simultaneously threatening and reassuring aura. This man was also an Offensive fae.

"Elliot tells me you have a crisis on your hands," he announced. His voice was deeper than Elliot's, and he enunciated his words better. It was a reassuring voice; a politician's voice. "My name is Lucas."

"Harry," Harry said. "This little one is Ismay. She's Malfoy's." He nodded at Ismay and then tilted his head in the direction of the prone body on the bed.

"Rhys," Lucas said, stepping further into the room. "May I come closer?" he asked Harry. Harry looked at him in surprise, wondering why on earth he was asking him. Lucas looked significantly at Elliot when Harry continued looking confused.

"My father has realised that you are Destined. It is polite to ask the other Destined for permission to approach their partner if they are injured or otherwise incapacitated," Elliot said, sounding as though he was reciting something from a rule book. Harry, too amazed to argue or ask how he knew that he and Malfoy were Destined, nodded at Lucas, who approached Malfoy's prone form. He frowned, and Elliot began to look apprehensive.

"Dad?"

"I sincerely hope his aggressors have been caught," Lucas stated. His voice sounded like it was being restrained.

"We're not sure who they are," Rhys said. "He hasn't spoken a word. He's been in his full form ever since we found him. Harry coaxed him into changing."

"I assume that his daughter was not wanted?" Lucas asked. He sounded like he was barely holding himself in check. Harry nodded, pulling Ismay closer to him. He didn't want any aggression near the girl. He saw Elliot notice his protective gesture and watched in even more surprise as the fae moved closer to them and placed himself in front of Harry and Ismay, between his father. Lucas also noticed his son's seemingly unconscious gesture, and his eyebrows rose. Elliot coughed, embarrassed, and Lucas took a deep breath and raised his hands in a non-threatening gesture.

"I will not do Mr. Malfoy or Ismay any harm, Harry, don't worry," he said placatingly, calming his voice and his aura. "This is a shocking act of barbarity. When I found out who did this, they will face the full power of the fae. No wizard justice is good enough for the sacrilege that this is."

Rhys nodded approvingly, and Elliot relaxed, moving to stand next to Harry and Ismay instead of in front of them.

"Is there anything we should do specifically for him? Any treatments for gold fae that I should be aware of?" Rhys asked. "I've never seen or treated one before."

"No, unfortunately. The normal medication you use for other fae will work on him. I will be able to help once he wakes up. Elliot will stay here and keep me updated. Harry, I recommend that you stay here too. Ismay seems to trust you, and Mr. Malfoy certainly does trust you. This is important for their recovery. Meanwhile, I need to update the relevant authorities about this."

"What's going to happen?" Harry asked, looking anxious. Ismay whined softly and tensed in his arms and Harry's attention transferred to her. He rubbed her back firmly and shushed her until she relaxed again, her fingers which had tightened in his shirt softening. He looked up and noticed that Lucas had looked away respectfully. Elliot had not done so; Harry didn't think too hard about why but coughed to let Lucas know that it was fine to look back.

"I'll go back to Ireland and let the rest of the Council know about this situation. They won't do anything until Mr. Malfoy is awake and willing to talk to us. We don't speak lightly when we say that gold fae are sacred, Harry Potter. Gold fae are powerful and much-loved. This – this _abuse_ of one of ours will need to be answered for. We will do subtle inquiries and find out from Mrs. Malfoy if she knew about this. If she has nothing to say, we will request to speak to Mr. Malfoy in Azkaban. I can't understand _why_ this wasn't discovered earlier."

"I requested the Ministry to wipe out all records of the fae when he was discovered. One of the Aurors who raided Malfoy Manor knows me and called me to the scene. There were other prisoners there. I simply asked for the fae not to be mentioned specifically and took him back here with his daughter," Rhys said. He looked guilty. "I know I should have talked to you."

"You're right about that," Lucas said. He sounded angry. "You _know_ how important gold fae are. Why on earth didn't you _tell_ us?" he asked.

"I didn't know what to do! Here was this fae who was so obviously deeply traumatised. I didn't know who he was, why he had been at the Manor. By the time I had sorted myself out, he'd locked himself so tightly in his sanctuary that I couldn't get to him. Only with Harry's arrival was I able to reach out to him."

Lucas looked exasperated.

"At least you've told me now. I'll deal with it, Rhys, but I swear to Merlin if you hide _anything_ – and I mean _anything_ from me again about my people, I'll haul you up for questioning."

"Understood." Rhys nodded, looking immensely relieved that he was off the hook. He busied himself with applying the last few salves and spelling the potions into Malfoy's body. Lucas looked at them all for a moment longer, before bowing his head at Harry and sweeping out of the room.

Harry took a deep breath and closed his eyes. It was going to be a long night.

* * *

 _A/N:_ _….Aaaaaand things are heating up! See you next time :)_


	7. Chapter 7

_A/N:_ _Thank you to_ _ **mizzrazz72**_ _for being the first to review! And also, to_ _ **SerpensPrincess**_ _, simply for continuing to review every chapter. It made me start my next chapter earlier than I expected (also some of RL good news I'm celebrating!)_

 _ **Important**_ _ **Note** :_ _Harry here tells Malfoy that he spent six years at school with him. This is true because of course Harry didn't have his seventh year._

 _Disclaimer:_ _None of my work belongs to me, it is solely the property of the one and only J.K. Rowling and any other company which has the copyright of Harry Potter, including Warner Bros. Nothing here belongs to me; all the characters are J.K. Rowling'soriginally, though any new character not part of the Harry Potter series belongs to me._

* * *

 **Title:** I stand for freedom

 **Author:** hpjkrowling4ever

Chapter Seven

Harry rubbed at his eyes in frustration and wondered what he ought to do. Malfoy was still unconscious in his bed, but Ismay definitely was not. The little girl had woken up multiple times, falling asleep intermittently. Her rest was always fitful, and she was increasingly hysterical. Harry knew that the only thing which would calm her was Malfoy. He had tried taking her out of the ward, but that had been her most hysterical moment, so he had stayed in the ward so that she could still see her father.

Elliot had stayed in the room throughout the night as well, sitting in a chair in the corner of the room, on the other side of Malfoy's bed, and offering advice to Harry. He had younger siblings, so he had suggestions on calming hysterical children, but even he admitted that the only thing that would help Ismay's mood was her father waking up. He also provided medical help, checking up on Malfoy every hour and applying salves when he needed to. After a worrying hour where Malfoy's body temperature had dropped dangerously low, Rhys started coming every hour as well, which meant that Harry's worries about Malfoy's physical health had diminished significantly. His body was looking much less broken and beaten up, but still frighteningly thin.

It was at around seven in the morning, after Rhys had just come in, that Malfoy stirred. Harry and Elliot immediately sat up in their chairs, watching Malfoy's body anxiously. Ismay had worn herself out crying and was asleep on Harry's lap. Malfoy groaned and tried to move but was stopped by the thick blankets wrapped tightly around him. His eyes flew open and he struggled violently, trying to sit up. Harry had the sudden thought that Malfoy probably despised the thought of feeling trapped. Elliot seemed to have had the same thought, because he rose out of his seat and approached Malfoy very slowly, his hands held up beside him.

"Mr. Malfoy, my name is Elliot. I'm here to help you. Would you like me to loosen your blankets?" he asked, staying a long distance away from Malfoy's bed, and in his line of sight. Malfoy was looking increasingly desperate to free himself, so he nodded frantically. Elliot walked to Malfoy's bedside and started untucking the blankets. Every time his hands brushed against Malfoy's body, he flinched instinctively. Harry was surprised to feel tears pricking at his eyes on seeing the way his school nemesis had been affected. Once Malfoy was free, Elliot backed away quickly, still keeping his hands raised up high. Malfoy watched him balefully from the bed, before coughing several times.

"Ismay?" he asked, looking around. Almost as soon as he spoke, his eyes rested on Harry, holding Ismay. Malfoy's eyes glowed bright silver, which prompted Harry to stand up and approach the bed. He carefully put Ismay down beside her father and stepped back as well. Both he and Elliot watched as Malfoy ran his hands over Ismay, checking his daughter for injuries in what were clearly practiced movements. Harry caught Elliot's eyes across the bed and was surprised to see tears shining in his eyes as well.

"Where am I?" Malfoy asked. His voice was dry and rough, so unlike what Harry remembered.

"A refuge for magical creatures, Mr. Malfoy," Elliot answered, his voice smooth. Malfoy turned his head to look at him, but Harry noticed how he kept Ismay shielded at all times from both of them and though he was looking at Elliot, he was obviously still very aware of Harry on his other side.

"You found me, then," Malfoy stated. Harry gave a small cough and Malfoy's head spun around to look at him.

"Would you prefer it if I went to your other side, so you could keep an eye on both of us at the same time?" Harry asked, his mind flashing back to Dudley's Harry-hunting and Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia, and how he liked to make sure that he could see all his attackers at one time. Harry could see Malfoy's throat working, and how much it cost him to then nod sharply. Harry slowly made his way around and stood next to Elliot. Both of them kept their hands clasped in front of them, so that Malfoy was able to see them.

"May I ask what you remember, Mr. Malfoy?" Elliot asked politely.

"Who are you?" Malfoy asked. He coughed again. "I know your name is Elliot, but what qualifies you to be here?" Though Malfoy spoke rudely, Harry could tell that he was a shadow of himself and as a result his rudeness only came across as exhaustion.

"I am also a fae, Mr. Malfoy. My father is the ambassador here. I also work here, caring for injured people. I was injured myself during the War, but as you can see, I am well again. We can leave if we are making you uncomfortable," Elliot said. Malfoy shook his head, to Harry's astonishment.

"I'd only wonder when you came back. Anyway, I will probably need you at some point." At that, his attention turned to Harry. Though his body was weak and emaciated, his eyes were as bright as ever. There was something reassuring about seeing that there was still some of the Malfoy Harry had been to school with there. "Potter."

"Malfoy."

"Thank you for looking after Ismay," he said. He looked down at his daughter, rubbing her back with a fond smile that Harry had never seen before on his face. "She…she means a lot to me."

"She's your daughter, Malfoy," Harry stated. "And she's lovely."

"She wasn't wanted," Malfoy said sharply. His hands went to Ismay's ears when he said that, making sure that she didn't hear his words, even though she was asleep.

"I know," Harry said, keeping his voice level. He reckoned that Malfoy wouldn't want his pity.

Ismay made a noise in Malfoy's lap, and his attention turned to her immediately, taking his hands away from her ears. He pulled her closer to him and leant back against his pillows, making sure that her torso was lying against his, her ear against his heart. It seemed to be a familiar position with them.

"Issy," he said quietly, his voice ever so soft in the quiet of the room. Harry couldn't tear his eyes away from the scene, and nor could Elliot.

The little girl whimpered and blinked sleepily. Suddenly, she seemed to realise that her daddy was the one she was lying against, and who had whispered her name. A blinding smile spread across her face, and she sat up in Malfoy's lap. She didn't make any sudden movements with her hands, though, keeping them unnaturally still by her side. A mannerism born from their captivity, Harry thought to himself.

"Daddy!" she cried. Malfoy smiled just as widely as her, and took her hands, wrapping them around his neck. At that, the girl let go completely, squeezing her dad for all she was worth. "You're better!" Elliot and Harry heard her say against Malfoy's neck.

"That's right, little one," Malfoy said, running his hands along her back. "You're such a brave girl, looking after your daddy," he said, kissing the side of her head.

This unfamiliar, tender Malfoy was one Harry was having an extremely hard time wrapping his head around. He remembered the angry, sullen, bigoted teenager from his school years, and tried to reconcile that Malfoy with this one, and with the fae he had met.

On the bed, Ismay twisted around on Malfoy's lap and turned to Harry and Elliot. She trusted Malfoy completely to keep her steady and to protect her in case he and Elliot were dangerous.

"They're good, Daddy," she declared. Malfoy kissed the top of her head, smiling. His eyes were hard as they looked at Harry and Elliot, though.

"Yeah?" he asked.

"Harry held me, Daddy," she said. "You were sick."

"I'm happy you were safe. You know the rule," Malfoy said, turning Ismay's head towards his.

"I'm safe first," she declared, looking at Malfoy seriously. Harry's throat closed up, and his hand sought Elliot's involuntarily. Elliot looked down at their joined hands and squeezed, pulling Harry closer and putting his arm around his shoulders. They looked back to the bed to see Malfoy and Ismay looking at them.

"I don't want your pity," Malfoy said, sounding angry.

"Tough luck, Malfoy," Harry replied. "You've already got it."

A scowl appeared on Malfoy's face.

"Of course I had to be rescued by _Potter_ ," he hissed. Despite his anger, Harry could see some fear in Malfoy's eyes, but he chose to ignore it.

"Runs with the territory, _Malfoy_ ," Harry replied cheerfully, glad to see that Malfoy hadn't entirely lost his fire. "The Boy-Who-Lived, rescuing you all."

Malfoy snorted, rolling his eyes. Harry could feel Elliot looking at them both in consternation, and Ismay was looking confused and slightly anxious. This was important, though. Harry didn't know where this deep desire to see Malfoy's spark came from, but he knew that it was important for them both.

"Don't flatter yourself, Potter."

"Everyone else already does," Harry replied, smirking. Malfoy let out an unwilling laugh, before coughing violently. Ismay patted him on the back gently, and Malfoy rubbed her back thankfully as he recovered his breath.

"I need to get the manager, Mr. Malfoy," Elliot said. "Is that okay with you?" he asked. He unclasped his hand from Harry's but waited until Malfoy nodded before leaving. A hush fell in the room after the door closed. Malfoy broke it first.

"You can come nearer, Potter. I'm too tired to bite anymore," Malfoy admitted. Harry didn't think he was imagining the apprehension in Malfoy's eyes. He felt the same.

Harry hesitated for a moment before approaching. He stopped when he was standing right next to the bed.

"I did as you asked," Malfoy said. Ismay leant back against her father and curled up, closing her eyes. Malfoy's hand held Ismay's face securely, and she was soon breathing evenly, worn out from her fretful night. Harry's eyes went to her face and he swallowed.

"I know you did, Malfoy."

"I'm no Angel," Malfoy whispered, looking at Harry significantly, and Harry knew that he hadn't imagined the double meaning to his words.

"No, you're not. But you're not Malfoy any longer," Harry said. His eyes went to Malfoy's. He remembered how Angel had been almost unable to hold his gaze, but Malfoy was.

"No, you're probably right. I never imagined myself in this situation."

"Do you want to talk about it?" Harry asked. "I'll respect your wishes if you don't."

"I will, at some point. I went through a lot, Potter." Malfoy's eyes skittered to Ismay. "It'll take time."

Harry smiled gently. He didn't think that this was what he expected when he had walked into the refuge, but he didn't think he was too put out.

"You can have all the time you want," Harry replied. "I think that you should talk to Elliot's father, and Elliot. Rhys, the manager here, is an Empath, and he'll be able to offer help as well. What do you want me to do?" Harry asked.

Malfoy looked slightly overwhelmed by the choice, but there was something he wanted – Harry could tell by the way Malfoy's hands were twisting in his lap.

"Can you – I mean, would you mind – if it's not any trouble –" Malfoy took a deep breath, and Harry stayed quiet. "My mother. She's – I want to see her." He rubbed his face. "I have –" he looked at Harry for a long moment.

"I won't make fun of you, Malfoy. I'll do it for stuff you legitimately need to be called on, but right here, right now, I'm here to listen," Harry said, and Malfoy nodded.

"I have trouble requesting things from people," Malfoy looked at Ismay. Harry could tell that as much as Ismay needed him, Malfoy needed Ismay as well. "Unless it's for Ismay. But if – when – I look like I want to ask for something, just give me a moment."

"I can do that. Where can I find your mother?" Harry asked gently. He knew she was in France, but he needed specifics.

"France. Do you – do you have a piece of paper? I need to write it, it's a family property." Malfoy asked. Harry rummaged around in his pockets and found a scrap piece of paper. He leant across to Malfoy's bedside table and picked up the pen Rhys and Elliot had been using to write down their observations during the night. Malfoy nodded and wrote down an address, then handed it to Harry, who put it in his pocket. He let out a breath after he had written it down and lifted his hand which wasn't cradling Ismay to the bridge of his nose to ward off tears. "I'm sorry."

"Don't apologise," Harry said, and was surprised when Malfoy gave a barely-there flinch. "Malfoy?"

"I'm sorry I – I – orders," he ground out, and Harry could have hit himself over the head. Of course he wouldn't react well to orders.

"I'm sorry as well." Harry gave a rueful smile and chuckled. Malfoy looked up then and frowned. "I'm not laughing at you. I'm just so happy you've turned, Malfoy."

"You are?" Malfoy looked at Harry in surprise.

"If I'd got any more attached to your fae form, I would've properly bonded with you. Not that I don't want to," Harry rushed to reassure the now ashen-looking Malfoy. "I do, but I want to do it knowing your human side, Malfoy. We spent six years at school together, but I barely know who _you_ are, and more importantly, I need to learn what makes you work, especially after your imprisonment. I need to connect with Ismay, because she's wonderful and I haven't had nearly enough time with her. Malfoy, we've got so much to learn about each other. I'm not denying that we've got a bond, but that shouldn't define us."

Malfoy looked overwhelmed again, and Harry could see tears in his eyes. Harry coughed in embarrassment before taking a deep breath and extending his hand.

"Hi. My name's Harry Potter, and I don't think we got off to the right start."

A brilliant smile took over Malfoy's face and Harry was disarmed by the beauty of it.

"My name's Draco Malfoy. It's a pleasure to meet you."

They shook hands.

* * *

Harry didn't waste a moment after leaving the refuge. He went to the Ministry and requested permission to take a Portkey to the south of France, where Narcissa Malfoy had hidden herself. The Ministry, of course, fell over themselves to grant Harry the Portkey and a return one to be activated by him whenever he needed to. Within seconds, he had landed in a field right in the middle of nowhere.

"An auspicious start, I'm sure," Harry said to himself, turning around on the spot to try to get his bearings. He took the address Malfoy had written down, murmured the Point Me spell and said the address out loud. He barely had to walk five steps before the air shimmered in front of him and a simply massive chateau appeared out of nowhere. Harry jumped back in shock, and the chateau disappeared. Confused, Harry stepped forwards again and the chateau reappeared.

"Very clever charms," he murmured, cancelling the Point Me spell and putting the address back in his pocket. He held his wand aloft, all his senses straining for any sound. He made it to the ornate front door safely and was about to lift his hand to knock before the door opened by itself. He would have yelled the first spell he knew except that he was suddenly faced with Narcissa Malfoy, who was pointing a wand at him.

"Mrs. Malfoy," he said, lowering his wand. She lowered hers.

"Mr. Potter."

They both looked long and hard at each other, remembering their encounter in the Forbidden Forest. Harry wondered how the family he thought had reunited and were safe at the end of the War had ended up so splintered.

"Your son sent me," Harry decided to announce, feeling like straightforward honesty was the best policy here. Mrs. Malfoy gasped and swayed on the spot, prompting Harry to grab her to steady her.

"He's safe? You rescued him? Oh, dear Merlin, thank you," Mrs. Malfoy looked deathly pale, but the relief on her face was so strong that Harry could almost feel it himself. She straightened and recovered herself, shooing Harry's hands away from her. "Please come in, Mr. Potter. Please, tell me how you found him."

She ushered Harry inside. He barely had time to admire the absolutely stunning rooms he was led through until Mrs. Malfoy stopped inside a smaller, less austere room. A tea tray had already been laid out, making Harry suspect that there were house elves around the place. He put himself on guard; he knew just how dangerous house elves could be, and he thought that Mrs. Malfoy was probably a mistress who was a great deal more respected by them than Mr. Malfoy.

Once they were sitting down and Mrs. Malfoy had put some tea in front of him, he took a few sips before telling her what he knew.

"Your son was found in Malfoy Manor, two years after the end of the War. He had gone through a fae inheritance, and when he was found, he was fully transformed and protecting his two-year-old daughter. For the past two years, he's been kept at a refuge for both human witches and wizards and magical creatures. I met him quite recently and formed a bond with him, which allowed me to reach him enough for him to transform back into his human shape. He's just woken up and he asked me to come and tell you that he wanted to see you."

Mrs. Malfoy's eyes were shining with tears when Harry finished, and her hand was lifted to her mouth in shock. She lowered her hand after a few moments and without looking at Harry, she started speaking.

"We'd been captives in Malfoy Manor throughout the whole of the War, slaves to the Dark Lord's whims. Nowhere was safe for us. It got worse after you and your friends helped our prisoners escape. After the Battle of Hogwarts, we thought it would all be over, but Lucius foolishly allowed some of the more dangerous Death Eaters sanctuary at Malfoy Manor, knowing that as an old family home, he could hide them from investigating Aurors. Then, a month after the end of the War, Draco turned seventeen and reached his inheritance. Lucius and I both have fae blood, but we thought it too diluted to risk it," Mrs. Malfoy swallowed heavily. "It was horrific. It was punishment for my treachery of the Dark Lord, and we couldn't say anything because we had been sworn to secrecy. I can't – I can't tell you or describe to you what they did to Draco, but they beat him and tortured him and abused him so badly that after two months I thought that there would be nothing left of my son there. The trials were taking such a long time that I thought he would be dead before the end of the year. Lucius managed to delay his trial. Two years -" Mrs. Malfoy looked angry for a fleeting moment. "He still had friends in the Ministry. However, because of your testimony, mine was hurried, which resulted in my exile here. I – I thought that Draco was dead. You say he has a daughter?"

Harry nodded, feeling numb.

"Yes. She's called Ismay."

"Ismay. It's a very appropriate name. The Black family tradition is to name their children after stars or constellations. I'm glad that Draco named her something else. Ismay means 'esteemed, beloved', of French origin, you know?" Harry shook his head, knowing that she needed to process the immense shock he had given her, and was likely doing this by saying everything which came to mind. "I don't – I don't know which of the Death Eaters –" she cut herself off.

"No, I don't think anyone but Draco knows. He hasn't said anything yet, but it's obvious that he adores Ismay," Harry said. "She's a gorgeous four-year-old, Mrs. Malfoy."

"Mr. Potter, please –" Harry was astounded when Mrs. Malfoy suddenly fell to her knees before him. "Please, Mr. Potter. I need to see my son. I need to touch him. I need to know he's well. Please, Mr. Potter."

"Mrs. Malfoy –" Harry took her hands and helped her up. "You've no need to go to your knees."

"There are spells keeping me here, on Malfoy land, Mr. Potter. I need –" she took a deep, steadying breath. Harry tightened his grip on her hands, stabilising her.

"I know, Mrs. Malfoy, I know."

"Mr. Potter, I beg of you, he's my son." Mrs. Malfoy looked about ready to go to her knees again, and he saw a lone tear fall down her face. Harry was at a complete loss and wished that Hermione was there. Pureblood women were known for being stoic, and faced with this much emotion he was utterly overwhelmed.

"I will do my best, I promise you, Mrs. Malfoy," Harry swore. There was nothing else he could say. "I'll talk to as many people as I need to," Harry said, thinking of Elliot's father.

"Thank you, Mr. Potter," Mrs. Malfoy closed her eyes and then opened them again. "But I think you might need additional support. There aren't many friends of the Malfoys in the Ministry anymore."

"What do you mean?" Harry asked in trepidation.

"Your testimony at my trial was not enough repayment for the Life Debt between us. I saved you from certain death, you saved me from imprisonment in Azkaban. The trade-off is not equal. I will consider it paid in full once you get me permission to see my son."

Harry wavered on the spot, feeling shaky. He felt the Life Debt snap into place. He'd been aware of it at her trial, but since he had mentioned her help in the Forest willingly before her trial, and willingly testified at her trial, he supposed that the Life Debt hadn't been adequately fulfilled because he hadn't put himself at risk enough. Mrs. Malfoy would have been killed by Lord Voldemort if her duplicity had been discovered before it was too late for Lord Voldemort to do anything. She had obviously been drowning in guilt for helping Harry as much as she had, and the cost it had had on her son.

"You didn't need to do that, Mrs. Malfoy. I would have done it anyway," he said. She gave him a half-smile.

"I know, Mr. Potter. But I think that you want that Life Debt gone, for reasons that I think have something to do with my son and why he trusted you with this address, and it gives you more ground to stand on with the Ministry."

Harry chuckled despite himself. There was something so cunning about Mrs. Malfoy's reasoning.

"I'll do my best," Harry said, turning away.

Mrs. Malfoy couldn't let him have the last word.

"You always do, Mr. Potter."

Harry smiled and shook his head ruefully. He hated dealing with Slytherins; he always felt so wrong-footed.

* * *

 _A/N:_ _Until next time!_


	8. Chapter 8

_A/N:_ _Thank you to_ _ **SerpensPrincess**_ _. I really appreciate the fact that you keep reviewing. I apologise for this chapter, I've just started at a new place and it's been absolutely mad._

 _ **Important**_ ** _Note:_** _Harry here tells Malfoy that he spent six years at school with him. This is true, because of course Harry didn't have his seventh year._

 _Disclaimer:_ _None of my work belongs to me, it is solely the property of the one and only J.K. Rowling and any other company which has the copyright of Harry Potter, including Warner Bros. Nothing here belongs to me; all the characters are J.K. Rowling's originally, though any new character not part of the Harry Potter series belongs to me._

* * *

 **Title:** I stand for freedom

 **Author:** hpjkrowling4ever

Chapter Eight

When Harry landed back in the Ministry, it didn't take him long to find out where Elliot's father worked. Through Kingsley and Hermione's efforts, the ambassadors for magical creature states had been given a whole new floor with separate, roomy offices. Harry had been to the floor before, but to visit the werewolf liaison office which they had set up there. The fae office was a great deal larger, probably because the fae state was a great deal more established than the werewolf one.

He was ushered into the main office as soon as he entered the waiting room, where Lucas was waiting for him. Harry frowned after the door closed behind them, raising an eyebrow in confusion.

"I was expecting you to come and visit me sometime today, Mr. Potter," Lucas said, gesturing for Harry to sit down on one of his more comfortable sofas away from his desk.

"You were?" Harry asked, sitting down. Once again, he was struck by the resemblance bewteen Lucas and Elliot.

"When we discover Destined matches, we usually start to keep track of them, especially since they've had no connection to fae before coming. I came back here and started a file on you, which is our policy until they've fulfilled their bond with a ceremony. Then you organised a Portkey to France, where I can make a pretty solid guess Draco Malfoy's mother is located," Lucas explained, steeping his fingers and looking at Harry contemplatively.

Harry leant back in the armchair, crossing his arms. His frown deepened.

"I don't like being kept track of, sir," Harry said.

"Lucas, or Ambassador Cahill, if you prefer that," Lucas said, looking totally untroubled. "It's our policy, Mr. Potter. I'm not treating you any differently to any other human who forms a bond with a fae."

"Why do you need to do it?" Harry asked, still frowning but feeling a bit more mollified.

"Too many faes have been taken advantage of in the bonding process because they're so eager to form the bond and will likely do anything for their Destined. Mr. Malfoy is in a critical situation, dealing with a new heritage, a daughter he didn't want and a Destined bond with someone who had an antagonistic history with him at school. Excuse me if I would like to look out for him," Lucas said. He smiled at Harry. It was a politician's smile. Harry's frown migrated into a scowl.

"He wasn't the good guy at school, sir. Please appreciate that. Malfoy doesn't need coddling. He needs to fight. That's how he always dealt with any of his problems," Harry shot back angrily. "I'm not diminishing what he's been through. I understand that you need to look out for him, though."

"Mr. Potter," Lucas sighed. "My son really likes you, and he doesn't like every human he meets. I don't mean to put your back up about this. You've done amazing things for the Wizarding World, and I really appreciate that. Mr. Malfoy is one of about seven gold fae we have. There used to be many more, but…" Lucas pinched the bridge of his nose. It was the first time Harry had seen him properly affected. "Most of them were taken advantage of by their human Destined, and occasionally their fae Destined. We just want to make sure that Mr. Malfoy isn't hurt worse than he already has been."

Harry relaxed incrementally.

"I understand, Ambassador. On that subject, Malfoy sent me to visit his mother, which is why I organised the Portkey. You were correct that that's where she is." Harry declared, leaning back in his seat. He noticed how Lucas' eyebrows shot up.

"It's common knowledge that that's where she was exiled. I'm surprised that Malfoy trusted you with the address," Lucas observed. Harry smiled.

"Malfoy and I know that there's a bond between us; he knows that he can trust me right now. Malfoy gave me the address and sent me there. Mrs. Malfoy wants to see her son – and her granddaughter," Harry said, with a challenging smile at Lucas. Lucas recognised Harry's challenge for what it was: if Lucas and the fae state was so concerned about Draco, they needed to find a way to get her to Malfoy. He inclined his head.

"We will do our best," Lucas said. "You understand that it's almost impossible to ask for something like that."

"No, not impossible. She requested it from me as a life debt, so you've got to make it possible. I don't trust you – I've never trusted politicians. But if you're serious about protecting him, I want you to bring his mother here. You've got my full cooperation."

Lucas sighed and shook his head. He stood up and started wandering about his office in an absent-minded sort of way. Harry was intrigued by the man's sudden change in demeanour but didn't question it, instead letting the man think things through.

Harry wasn't sure why he was nervous around Lucas. He supposed that on one hand, it was because he knew the man was a politician and he hated politicking. On the other hand, he was Elliot's father and he liked Elliot and wanted to get along with him. Something also told him that he knew something about Harry that Harry didn't know, and people withholding information had always frustrated Harry. Harry also knew that Malfoy had sent him to get his mother for another reason, apart from the fact that he knew that the bond between them meant Harry would be trying his best to help him. He wanted to test Harry; see if Harry was good enough as his Destined. There was something of the old Malfoy there, but it also spoke of Malfoy's insecurity. He wanted someone whom he loved and trusted utterly with him.

Lucas turned around again, his thoughts gathered. He sat down with a shake of his head.

"I'll do my best, Mr. Potter. I appreciate the position that you're in, I really do. If this is what it'll take to trust that we have yours and your Destined's best interests at heart, I'll take it," he said. Harry gave him a small smile.

"I'm glad we can work together on this," he replied, before standing up. His next stop was Ron and Hermione.

* * *

While Harry was trying to organise transport for Mrs. Malfoy, Draco was getting used to being back in his body. His fae mind and his human mind had merged, leaving him feeling disorientated and shaky. He was nervous and wanted nothing more than his mum, or even Harry (and when he had started thinking of his once-nemesis by his first name?), next to him to calm him, but all he had was the silent Elliot and his daughter, who was sleeping calmly against him.

Draco adored Ismay; it was why he had named her what he had. However, the trauma he had gone through to have Ismay meant that there was some dissociation in his mind between the fact that he had actually given birth – and the memory of the event itself was twisted by fear, hatred and pain – and the girl lying trustingly against his chest. His fae mindset meant that he had not been able to distance himself from Ismay in the least; his fae was committed to loving, caring for, and supporting Ismay. It had focused him, and he knew that had Ismay not been born, he would have succumbed to his wounds and his fear. Ismay meant that his fae had rallied him, made sure that he _survived_ for her; she had indirectly been his saving grace. She was his highest priority, and his disorientation now he was no longer in his fae form would not stop him from that goal. Ismay had not been wanted, but now he had her, she was his everything.

His human mind was taking a while to catch up now that he was back, and _safe_. Rationally, he knew that he was safe, but he still kept looking around the room for any danger, noticing all the possible escape routes.

"How's your magic?" Elliot suddenly asked. Draco flinched and immediately hated himself for doing so, firstly because he despised any show of weakness, but also because Ismay jerked awake and looked around in a panicked way. Draco shushed her, rubbing a hand up and down her back gently until she relaxed against him and closed her eyes again. Draco noted her exhaustion and felt guilty for being the cause of it. He knew that she was deeply attached to him – as he was to her – and almost regretted pushing back his fae and returning to human form. He looked over at Elliot balefully.

"What do you mean, how's my magic?" Draco asked, trying and failing to sound anything like as annoyed as he wanted to.

"You've just gone from being fae to human consciously for the first time. Your first transformation would have been unconscious, and I bet you anything that you stayed in your fae form all through your pregnancy," Elliot observed.

Draco relaxed marginally and felt around his magical core. His relationship with his magic had changed in the past four years; he was a great deal more attuned to it, but he could also feel how strained it was, how tense. It had spent a long time healing him and keeping him alive. It also felt more powerful, and more attuned to him and the space around him. When he had been in his full form, he had unconsciously been able to manipulate nature and even managed to connect to Harry's mind.

"It's fine," he said tersely. "It feels a bit different to how it did when – when –" Draco took a deep breath. It would be the first time he'd acknowledge it out loud. "When I was a wizard."

Elliot was looking at him inscrutably. Draco wasn't sure exactly why Harry trusted the other fae, but something about his unfaltering, resolute stance and the way he hadn't wavered once in watching over Draco did endear him.

"It must be hard," Elliot said in reply to that. "I've been a fae all my life, but to go from human to fae must be a huge challenge. And it goes without saying that you've had it way worse. I want you to be aware that the entire fae community is behind you and will support you."

"The entire –" Draco asked, cutting himself off. "What do you mean?"

Elliot shifted a bit in his stance.

"Gold fae have very high status in our society," he answered. "You're all treasured. Any abuse of you is – is – I can't even express how horrific it is that this has happened to you. We will do _anything_ to support you. And Harry," Elliot added. Draco collapsed a bit further against his pillows.

"Harry?" he asked.

"Well, he's obviously your Destined. You wouldn't have turned for anyone other than him or Ismay. Or potentially your third Destined but you haven't found him yet."

"Third?" Draco asked faintly. However, before Elliot could reply, he was interrupted by Ismay's breathing turning rapid and panicked. Draco's arms moved of their own accord in a gesture that he was subconsciously used to. He wrapped them tightly around her and squeezed her firmly, leaning her head against the crook of his neck. She gasped and woke up. The shock made her burst into tears.

"Daddy!" she cried out.

"Issy, darling," Draco answered, the words coming from the depths of his brain. His entire attention was consumed by his need to make sure that Ismay was alright. In the back of his mind, his fae was going mad because he couldn't guarantee both his and Ismay's safety while he was looking after her.

A rush of magic fell over the room, and he looked over to see that Elliot had stood up from his chair and had produced the magic. Draco recognised powerful protective magic when he felt it and he felt his fae relax. He gave Elliot a grateful nod and turned back to Ismay, who was still crying against his neck.

"Issy, it's okay," he murmured into her hair, running one of his hands soothingly through it. Ismay shook her head frantically against his neck.

"Bad guys," she sniffled, and Draco wracked his brain about what he could possibly do. He cast his mind around and settled on a solution that he couldn't believe he hadn't thought of before. Arranging himself in the bed, he disentangled himself from his covers and knelt on the bed, lifting Ismay off it so that she wrapped her legs around his waist. With that, he focused hard on his wings and in a rush of air, they appeared. He could feel them fluttering behind him, and he concentrated on moving them consciously; previously, his fae had instinctively known how to move them. They came forward, wrapping themselves around Ismay, whose sobs stuttered to a stop when she felt darkness fall around her. She looked up from his neck and moved her hands, feeling the feathers around her.

"Daddy," she hiccupped, and Draco hushed her once again.

"There we are, darling," he whispered, "Isn't that better now?"

Ismay nodded shakily and fisted her hand in his wings. Draco could feel it as if his wings were another limb, but he there was absolutely no pain. In fact, he could see the wings that Ismay was clutching glowing slightly. He absently wondered why.

"Daddy?" Ismay asked. Draco hummed to let her know he was listening. "What happens?"

"What happens to us now?" Draco asked to check he knew what she was asking. She nodded. "Well, Daddy's not very well –" and how he hated to admit that "– so he has to get better now. You can do everything I promised we could do, darling. Harry will come back, and he will be able to help both of us," he said. He could remember Ismay asking about Harry and wanting to see more of him; he wasn't the only one who had formed a connection with his once-nemesis.

Ismay's breathing had relaxed and she had collapsed against him again, her hands falling from his wings to his shirt instead. Her eyes were still open, but half-lidded. Draco kissed her forehead and rocked her back and forth for a while until her eyes closed once again. He wanted her to be better as soon as possible so that then he could help himself; he wouldn't rest himself until he was satisfied that she was back to the best possible physical health.

Once he was sure that she had fallen asleep again, he withdrew his wings. He was faced with Elliot studiously looking at the door, his back to Draco. Draco frowned.

"Elliot?" he asked. Elliot didn't turn around.

"Have you pulled in your wings?" he asked. Draco nodded, remembered that Elliot couldn't see him, and acquiesced verbally. Elliot turned back around and went to his chair. He looked at Draco and smiled at his confused look. "I was saying how gold fae were extremely important to us; they're – I can't describe it. You're not sacred, but you're close to it. Your love for your children is something extremely powerful because you build your entire relationship on a support net for them. For fae, their children are – they're the foundation of our society. You can also manipulate nature, sometimes see the future and your magic is a powerful healing force. I turned away because – well. Because pulling out your wings in fae society is almost taboo unless it's an Offensive fae defending their mate or any other fae. And you were comforting your child. Any self-respecting fae would turn away or face being challenged to an honour duel by the Offensive mate."

Draco felt his mouth drop and he glanced down at Ismay in wonder.

"I hadn't realised," he said. He looked back at Elliot, whose face was twisted in what looked like pain.

"I'm so sorry that this happened to you," Elliot said, sounding almost desperate. He took a half-step forwards, thought better of it, and stepped back. "I want to help you."

"Thank you for casting the spell," Draco acknowledged verbally.

"I'm an Offensive fae," Elliot replied, looking a bit awkward. "It's instinctive for me to try and protect other fae, especially gold fae."

Draco tried hard to restrain his blush, but from the way Elliot looked amused, he worked out that he had probably failed. It was the first normal reaction his body had had since he'd turned back, making him feel reassured.

"Could you explain Offensive fae to me? And what you meant by three mates?" he asked, sitting back down against the pillows.

Elliot nodded and sat down on his chair.

* * *

Harry landed outside Ron and Hermione's flat and felt the tension which had built up in him over the day bleed out. His friends always had the uncanny ability of making him feel relaxed again; he desperately needed to feel stable after the whirlwind of events.

Even before he reached their door, Hermione had opened it and was ushering him inside. He took off his coat and hung it on the coat stand, before heading into their kitchen. Ron was standing above the stove, waving his wand over a saucepan of delicious-smelling stew. Somewhere between the end of the war and moving into the flat with Hermione, Ron had become an excellent cook, very likely inspired by the lack of food they had had in their Horcrux travels.

Harry sat down at their kitchen table and smiled gratefully at Hermione when she pushed a cup of tea in front of him. It was her favourite raspberry and mango tea; she was a great believer in not having caffeine after about four o'clock in the afternoon, which meant that the majority of her teas were herbal or fruit ones.

"What's up?" Hermione asked. Ron turned around, a wooden spoon held aloft and a confused look on his face.

"Something's wrong?" he asked. Harry chuckled at both questions and leant back in the chair, stretching out.

"Can I stay for dinner?" he enquired instead. Hermione rolled her eyes and he could almost see her looking around for something to slap him on the shoulder with.

"Don't be an idiot, of course you can," Ron replied, forestalling Hermione. "Now, if Hermione thinks that something's up, then something's up and as the cook I want you to tell me what it is, so I feel less confused."

"Well –" Harry paused and took off his glasses to rub at his eyes before putting them back on. Immediately, Ron and Hermione's faces swam back into focus with identical looks of concern. Hermione sat down next to him and put an arm around his shoulders.

"It's about that fae, isn't it?" she asked.

"Yeah," Harry sighed. He ran a hand through his hair and refused to look at either Ron or Hermione. "He transformed back into his human form yesterday."

"Who is it?" Ron asked, blowing on whatever was on the wooden spoon and tasting it. He made a face and waved his wand in a complicated pattern. "I guess it's someone we know."

"Draco Malfoy," Harry stated. Hermione swallowed once and looked almost reflexively at her arm. Ron's scars from Malfoy Manor weren't carved onto his skin, but he had gone white underneath his freckles.

" _Malfoy_?" Ron asked. "You've got a bond with _Malfoy_?" he repeated, swaying on his feet. Hermione's arm stayed around Harry's shoulder, but her eyes had gone steely.

"He's not forcing you into it? You know you don't need to bond with him," she said. Harry shrugged her arm off and put his face in his hands on the table, letting all the emotions he'd put down since Malfoy's transformation surface.

"Don't you think that I haven't thought of it all, Hermione? Don't you think that I remember what happened at Malfoy Manor? That I remember all the bullying? The insults? The hatred? Merlin, Hermione, I remember it all in vivid technicolour. But then –" Harry struggled to get the words out. "But then when he transformed, he was – he was broken, battered, bruised. In every way, mentally and physically. He's been in full fae form for two years, trying to heal himself. Can you _imagine_ what he must have looked like if that was him once he'd healed?" Harry shook his head as if to get rid of the thoughts plaguing it. "The first thing he did when he came to this morning was panic because he felt trapped in his bedsheets. The second thing he did was ask for his daughter and make sure she was okay. The third thing he did was to ask where he was."

Ron had moved from the bubbling saucepan to a chair in front of Harry and was looking at him earnestly.

"But Harry, what's to say that he won't go back to being how he was?"

"Because I think he's incapable of doing so. He's been raped, abused, tortured, starved, beaten, discriminated against, all because of who his blood made him. I don't think he could ever go back, Ron. And the first thing he asked of me – and he was almost unable to _ask me_ a simple question – was to go and find his mother because he wanted to see her."

"You went, I assume?" Hermione asked, sounding fondly exasperated.

"Yeah, I went. She explained a lot. She's – she invoked the remainder of our life debt. She begged me to get a Portkey so that she could see her son. She went to her knees, Hermione. How could I refuse? I've just come from the fae ambassador's office." Harry rubbed his eyes again. "I don't know what to do."

"Harry, it sounds like you've made up your mind, mate," Ron said, pushing back his chair and going to the saucepan again. He tasted the stew and nodded in satisfaction, waving his wand so that the stove turned off, before sitting back down.

"But I can't! I can't commit myself to someone who has – frankly – been an arse to us. But then I want to help him. I think Ismay's amazing. I'm so stuck." Then he mumbled something under his breath. Ron looked confused but a look of understanding struck Hermione's face. She shook Harry's shoulder.

"Please repeat what I think you said."

Harry took a deep breath.

"I don't want to lose you guys," he whispered. Ron's eyes widened in horror and Hermione's face took on a determined set to it.

"Are you an idiot?" Ron exclaimed. "Harry! Pull yourself together. I know you've had a shock and all, but I can't believe you'd be stupid enough to think that we'd both throw away more than a decade of friendship because of this."

Harry looked at Ron in amazement. His friend coughed and looked embarrassed. Hermione took over.

"Harry James Potter, we are your friends now and forever, as ridiculous as that sounds. We fought a troll together, we defeated a Dark Lord together, we'll work through this together. Yes, it's going to be hard for us. Yes, we probably won't visit Malfoy until we've worked through this. But no, we're not going to abandon you. No, we're not going to stop you from finding what you need with him. I said in first year that there were more important things than books and cleverness, and I don't think that suddenly I find myself disagreeing with eleven-year-old me, Harry."

Harry had no words for his friends, but turned and buried his face in Hermione's shoulder. He felt her pull him up and wrap her arms tightly around him. He heard Ron push back his chair and he found himself in a sandwich between his two best – and first – friends.

* * *

 _A/N:_ _There we go!_


	9. Chapter 9

_A/N:_ _Thank you once again to_ _ **SerpensPrincess**_ _. I know I don't update often but I promise your continued reviews make me determined to keep going. And thank you as well to everyone else who reviewed._

 _Disclaimer:_ _None of my work belongs to me, it is solely the property of the one and only J.K. Rowling and any other company which has the copyright of Harry Potter, including Warner Bros. Nothing here belongs to me; all the characters are J.K. Rowling's originally, though any new character not part of the Harry Potter series belongs to me._

* * *

 **Title:** I stand for freedom

 **Author:** hpjkrowling4ever

Chapter Nine

Harry Apparated into the street next to the refuge the next morning, feeling mildly more refreshed. He had stayed with Ron and Hermione that night to get some perspective and headspace. While Ron's comments about Malfoy were mainly one-word answers to try and avoid offending Harry, Hermione's comments were much more helpful. Harry came in that morning feeling more prepared to talk to Malfoy.

Gabi was at the reception desk and smiled widely at Harry when he entered.

"Rhys has nothing but praise for you, Harry," she said as he went up to her to sign in for the day. "You're doing some pretty great stuff."

Harry chuckled and shook his head.

"I'm only being myself," he replied. "It seems to be working."

Gabi laughed and handed him a key.

"Keep being yourself; Rhys wants you to have this key. It means you can come and go through the back if you so need to."

Harry took the key with a nod and walked to where he knew Malfoy's room was. As he approached, his shoulders tensed up; he wasn't sure whether it was due to any magic around the room or if it was his own worry about seeing Malfoy again. He knocked gently at the door and waited a long time before Malfoy's voice called out for him to come in. He felt something in the air relax but shrugged it off as he walked in.

The moment Harry entered, he saw some discarded clay on a table next to Malfoy's bed. Ismay's brown hands told Harry that she must have been playing there and Malfoy had picked her up before Harry entered. There was no one else in the room.

"No one else here?" Harry asked. He found it odd that Rhys had left Malfoy unattended. On the bed, Malfoy snorted.

"I told Elliot to leave. He left some pretty strong wards around the room which can only be dismantled by him or by me," he said. "You didn't feel them?" an anxious look crept into Malfoy's eyes.

"If Elliot put up warding, I doubt I'd feel a thing," Harry replied. "He's been trained like that his whole life; I decided against joining the Aurors and I'm not trained to feel magic that isn't designed to be felt. Elliot wouldn't lie to you."

Malfoy relaxed marginally. Harry decided that it would have to do, so he closed the door behind him and walked further into the room. Malfoy pulled Ismay closer to him and put up a hand.

"No closer, Potter," Malfoy snapped. "We may have a truce but I'm not trusting you any closer."

Harry stopped but felt an undercurrent of frustration run through him.

"Malfoy, I can't hold a conversation with you standing up metres away from your bed. If I'd wanted to hurt you, I would have. You're weak, lying prone in bed and you've let me in. I'm surprised you didn't check who I was before allowing me in," Harry stated, sounding a tad exasperated. Malfoy shook his head.

"Only a few people know I'm here, Potter. It had to be you because I haven't seen you in a while. And you can damn well hold a conversation over there or you can leave again. I don't want you any closer," he retorted.

"Tough luck, Malfoy. We'll have to compromise because I'm not leaving but you want news of your mother. I'm no Healer and I don't know how to treat abused patients, but I know _you_ , _Draco_. Six years in the same school will do that. I'm not going to mollycoddle you!" Harry exclaimed. Despite his words, and his angry tone, his hands stayed completely still by his sides; he was still very aware that Malfoy would react badly to any sudden movements, but he wanted his old school nemesis to think that Harry would treat him as normally as he could in these circumstances.

"I've changed, _Harry_ , if you haven't noticed," Malfoy sniped, glaring at Harry, but then a whimper from Ismay had him divert his attention immediately. She was cowering into his side, looking fearfully between him and Harry. At once, identical looks of remorse appeared on both Harry and Malfoy's faces. Malfoy pulled her around so that she was sitting on his lap, though she hid her face in his neck.

"Issy, darling, look at me please," Malfoy said in a voice so gentle Harry could barely recognise it. It took a few moments, but Ismay slowly moved until she was facing Malfoy. "Does Daddy look scared?" Ismay shook her head. "Does he _feel_ scared?" he asked and Ismay shook her head once again. Harry wondered what he meant by _feel_. "Does that mean you should be scared?" There was another long pause, but then she shook her head. "Good girl," Malfoy praised, pulling her closer to him. "My brave, brave girl," he crooned into her hair, rocking her back and forth. Harry swallowed heavily and averted his gaze, unwilling to look upon this extremely private moment. "Now Issy, is it okay if Harry comes closer?" he asked. Harry's head whipped around, and he looked at Malfoy in amazement, but the fae was looking intently at his daughter. She looked back at Harry uneasily, and Harry did his best to look reassuring but wasn't sure how successful he was. "Now, Issy, I remember you telling me that Harry was good, yes? You weren't lying, were you?" Malfoy asked, a teasing tone in his voice. Ismay gave a very small giggle and shook her head. "You know what happens if you lie to daddy, don't you?" he asked, his voice still gentle and teasing. Ismay's giggle grew louder and she laughed delightedly. An answering smile appeared on Malfoy's face, and Harry couldn't help but replicate it.

When Ismay looked over again, she nodded decisively, and Harry took slow steps forward until he was right beside Malfoy's knees. He looked long and hard at Malfoy, seeing the sweat beading at the top of his head and the rapid swallowing of his throat. The little girl's determination seemed to give him courage, though, and he gestured for Harry to sit down. He raised an eyebrow, looking at the bed and then at Malfoy, who nodded very rapidly. Harry perched gently on the edge of the bed and then at an incredibly slow pace he lifted his hand and put it on Malfoy's leg. There was a minute flinch, but Malfoy didn't ask him to take his hand away, so Harry left it there, squeezing gently and letting his magic filter through his hand to reassure Malfoy. His eyes widened, telling Harry that he was feeling it, and his shoulders slowly relaxed. Ismay was quiet now, leaning back against Malfoy and fiddling with the hem of her shirt.

"What did you want to tell me about my mother?" Malfoy asked, his voice completely steady, belying his earlier apprehension. Harry imitated Malfoy's now calm tone of voice when he spoke.

"I found her where you told me she would be. She was extremely relieved that you'd got out relatively safely," Harry answered. "And she made me swear by any bit of the Life Debt left between us that I'd manage to find a way to get her into England to see you."

Malfoy's shoulders relaxed completely, and a broken sob made its way past him. Harry could see Ismay starting to panic, so he acted instinctively. Pulling out his magic into a shield which could surround them in a soundproof bubble, he then let calming threads seep into the air inside it. He moved up the bed until he was sitting right next to Malfoy and Ismay, and he pulled them both into his arms. Malfoy was totally unresisting, muffling his sobs in Harry's shirt, and Ismay, looking a bit confused but reassured by the calming magic floating around them, fisted her hand in Harry's shirt as well and leant her head against his stomach. Harry held them both for an indeterminable amount of time until the door to Malfoy's room flew open, startling all three of them. Malfoy panicked utterly, his wings rushing out and shielding Ismay. Harry stood up, spun around and held his wand aloft at whoever entered.

Elliot and Rhys were standing in the doorway, but as soon as Elliot got a grip on the situation, he pushed Rhys out forcefully and shut the door in his face. He knew he would regret his actions later, but he could feel the panic in Malfoy thrumming through the air; he also didn't want to be on the receiving end of any spells Harry could pull out. It was notable, though none of the occupiers of the room considered it, that Elliot hadn't gone with Rhys but stayed in the room.

"Draco, Harry, it's me, Elliot, I'm so sorry. No one was answering when we knocked the first few times and I was so scared something had happened to you or Ismay, Draco," he explained in a rush, holding up his hands. Harry lowered his wand and calmed down, though his face was set in a disapproving frown; Elliot could feel his magic unravelling and his eyes fluttered as he tried to resist the temptation to bask in it. He had never felt such powerful soothing magic. However, he turned around and tried to wipe the image of the most beautiful wings he had ever seen from his mind; after all, he had just been staring at them and that was possibly the rudest thing he had done in his entire life. He waited until he heard the distinctive rush of air which meant that the wings had been retracted before turning around.

Harry kept glaring at him, frustrated that he had ruined the moment between himself and Malfoy. He glanced at Malfoy again and saw that though his hands were shaking, he seemed quite calm. Ismay was a different matter. Tears were streaming from her eyes, but she was crying silently and that, above all, made Harry want to cry himself. He could see similar sadness in Elliot's eyes, along with a good dose of self-recrimination.

"Issy, sweetheart," he breathed and looked at Malfoy for permission to touch Ismay. Malfoy nodded jerkily. Harry put his hand on her head and ran his hand through her hair ever so gently until she loosened her hold on Malfoy and reached out one hand to Harry, who took it eagerly, kissing it before holding it in his other hand. He looked at Malfoy and saw that he was looking at Elliot angrily.

"Don't you dare do that ever again," Malfoy declared, his voice bitingly cold. "How dare you." It wasn't a question, so Elliot remained silent and still. "If I don't allow you in, assume that I'm okay. While I'm flattered that you were so worried, I'm furious that you scared me and my daughter so much."

Harry knew what Malfoy was going to do seconds before he did. He gently handed Ismay to Harry, in a moment of such huge trust that Harry was staggered, and carefully got out of bed until he was standing in front of Elliot. His body was vibrating with left over anger and fear, and Harry pulled Ismay closer to his body, quietly delighted that she trusted him enough to allow him to do so; her eyes never left her father though.

Malfoy was shorter than Elliot, though not by much. Elliot was obviously wider and more muscular, but Harry knew that he wouldn't raise a hand against Malfoy. They stared at each other for a very long time. Then Malfoy spoke.

"When I was being beaten, starved, and tortured, I learnt a few things. I learnt how to stay quiet. I learnt not to talk back. I learnt how to curl up so that they couldn't get me – and later, Ismay. I learnt a great deal. But now I'm here, I'm going to unlearn all of that. So, I will quite happily tell you that if you do that once again, I'm going to discover exactly what powers my fae transformation has given me to defend myself against stupidity like yours!" Malfoy's voice got louder and louder until he was yelling in Elliot's face. When he stopped, he looked fearfully at Elliot, as if worried that he would retaliate in the way Malfoy was obviously used to. When all Elliot did was lower his head so that he broke eye contact with Malfoy, Harry could almost feel the amazement which was apparent on Malfoy's face.

"Please accept my deepest apologies, Mr. Malfoy. I am willing to do anything to make up for my slight against you, your Destined and your daughter," Elliot said, saying what was obviously a formal apology in fae culture. Malfoy looked thrown by Elliot's whole reaction and probably by Elliot's assessment of Harry as his Destined but bit out an acknowledgement. The adrenaline seemed to drain out of him and he swayed on his feet. An alarmed look overtook Elliot's face.

"Would you mind if I helped you back to your bed?" he asked. Malfoy gave a tired nod, and Elliot cautiously guided Malfoy back to the bed. Harry helped pull the blankets around him again and handed Ismay to him. She immediately cuddled up to him, put her thumb in her mouth and fell asleep, feeling the remnants of Harry's magic in the air and her father's now-relaxed body.

"Are your protections still in place?" Malfoy asked Elliot. He nodded.

"I wouldn't take them down without telling you, Mr. Malfoy."

"I think that you can call me Draco now. Potter, you're welcome to do so as well," Malfoy said, looking at Harry, who snorted.

"If you can get yourself to call me Harry. I'd like to see us try to get past that," he said, a grin on his face. An answering one appeared on Malfoy's, and it transformed him entirely. Harry heard Elliot's intake of breath and just about stopped himself from making his grin any wider.

"Let's see what happens, then," Malfoy replied. He looked back at Elliot. "Is there a Mind Healer who'll be able to help me in this place, then?" he asked.

"Rhys will do that. Rhys!" he exclaimed, ready to jump up again. Harry stopped him by putting a hand on his arm.

"Rhys will sort himself out. We can see him later," Harry said, and Elliot subsided reluctantly. Malfoy had tensed up but relaxed when Elliot did.

"Yes, sorry." Elliot coughed delicately. "Rhys will help you with your trauma. Don't worry, he's very competent and trustworthy. He helped me a bit when I was suffering after the War." At Malfoy's questioning look, Elliot elaborated, feeling that it was only fair he did so. "I was injured. My wings. Of course, being an Offensive fae, it's my primary defense and made me feel very vulnerable. I was quite paranoid, and Rhys healed me and helped me out. If you're nervous about talking to him, there are lots of other magical beings here who will be willing to corroborate me," he said.

Malfoy looked pensive for a while.

"I know that I have a lot to work through. I want to be out of here and independent as soon as I can. But Ismay means the world to me and I need to be more than halfway healed to look after her," he said thoughtfully.

"I'm not leaving either of you alone outside here!" he exclaimed, blurting out his thoughts before he had moderated them. Malfoy and Elliot both stared at him and he blushed. "Sorry – it's just – I want both of you to be safe. You can't go back to Malfoy Manor, and under my protection, you'd be the safest you could possibly be. AndIwanttobewithyou," Harry mumbled very fast. A mischievous look appeared on Malfoy's face, with had just looked gobsmacked at Harry pronouncements.

"Sorry, what was that?"

Harry looked balefully at Malfoy, knowing that he was pushing Harry on purpose.

"I won't repeat myself," he replied with dignity. He knew that Malfoy had heard what he said.

"Do you mind if we pull up chairs? Can I move Ismay's very funky clay to the side?" Elliot asked to break the impasse. Malfoy looked at her clay and gave a half-smile.

"Don't disturb any of it, but you can move the table and bring the chairs around. I'll be relieved not to have you both looming over me," he said, trying to make light of the situation and dispel any lingered tenseness in the room. Elliot and Harry pulled up the other two chairs in the room beside Malfoy's bed and sat down. There was silence for a while, which Elliot broke.

"What do both of you know about the bonding process of Destined couples?" he asked. "I explained what a gold fae circle looks like to Mr. – Draco, but I don't know how much you both know."

"I know that we recognised that we were Destined at an unusual time," Harry replied, looking nervously at Malfoy, who nodded as well.

"From what I gathered from your explanation, Elliot, it was indeed unusual for us to recognise each other. It sounds like you build up a romantic relationship _before_ realising that you're Destined. My…situation mucked it up a bit," Malfoy said self-deprecatingly. Harry put a hand on Malfoy's arm and looked at him in the eye before squeezing gently.

"It didn't muck anything up if we don't think it did. I don't think it would have panned out normally for us anyway, considering that we hated each other before this."

"Normally, you would have a period where you'd feel romantically attracted towards each other – the bond never starts working unless it sees compatibility anyway. In your case, you had that attraction, but it's manifested itself differently because it knows that you both need to work through a lot. It's likely that Harry will discover who your third Destined is before you do, Draco because he'll know to brief him on what your situation is," Elliot explained. Malfoy and Harry looked at each other then back at Elliot.

"We haven't totally accepted the relationship between us, Elliot," Harry said awkwardly. Elliot raised an eyebrow.

"You obviously have to a serious degree, though, because Draco trusts you with Ismay, and he wouldn't trust her to anyone else I guarantee you. He lets you touch him and you went to see his mother."

"How do you know that?" Malfoy said, trying to keep his voice down for Ismay but still sounding startled.

"My father is working on it," Elliot replied. It seemed to appease Malfoy, who nodded.

"I trust Potter – surprisingly – but I don't want to get involved in anything romantic until I'm doing better," Malfoy said, looking at Harry. Harry chuckled.

"We have a lot to get through. I'm happy with trust and companionship for the time being. And Ismay should have a say in everything."

"Ismay's in charge, naturally," Malfoy said, looking adoringly at his daughter. A laugh bubbled out of Elliot, and before they knew it, they were all laughing.

* * *

Elliot and Harry had stayed with Malfoy until early afternoon, when the fae had started yawning and fallen asleep beside Ismay. They both made their way to Rhys' office, where Elliot started by apologising effusively to him for his treatment earlier.

Rhys brushed all his apologies aside.

"I know exactly why you did it," he said. To himself, he thought that he knew probably more than Elliot – that he had reacted just like the third Destined in the circle would. "And I understand completely. Don't worry, I had plenty of work to keep me occupied. Now, what do you both have to say?"

"You'll still check on Malfoy, right?" Harry asked anxiously. He knew that Rhys had probably been going up to check Malfoy's health. Rhys looked flatly at him, and Harry had the grace to blush.

"I'll leave it another hour or two and then I'll be up. Please don't ever insinuate that I would not look after my patients," he said, and moderated his reproach with a smile. "I know you're worried, so I won't take it personally."

"I think Draco also wants to get started with Mind Healing. For himself and possibly Ismay later on," Elliot said. Rhys was already nodding.

"I'll discuss it in private with him when I check on him later. I intended to do that already, but I'm glad you confirmed that for me. I was a bit worried he might refuse any help on that front."

"I think –" Harry said, cutting himself off to make sure that he was clear about what he said. "I think that without Ismay, Malfoy wouldn't think twice about escaping from here as soon as he possibly could. I think that what will probably be his biggest trauma might also be his saving grace," Harry said bleakly.

"I hope you're correct, Harry," Rhys said. "Or else I don't know what I'll be able to do for him."

* * *

 _A/N:_ _Happy Christmas everyone! I will try to get another update out for the New Year!_


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